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Wally Wood's Blog

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Oct.12.2012
In May 1963 I had to shave off my beard. Greg, who was three years old, stood on the toilet seat cover to watch. “Don’t cry, daddy.” I don’t think I was, but he may have seen something. He comforted me: “It’ll grow back.” I shaved because I needed a job with a company that would hire someone...
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Sep.17.2011
Why write a fiction? It’s a question I ask myself whenever the writing goes badly. There’s no money in it. The world doesn’t need another book. My story is banal, the characters cardboard, the setting hackneyed, and what’s more I never learned to use the comma properly. So why do it? The reasons...
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