Spotlight On Writers
Darryl B
- Where do you originate from?
Thanks to Spillwords for giving me this opportunity!
I was born in upstate NY. My Dad worked for IBM, and we were transferred to Boca Raton, FL, when I was eight. I don’t recall much about NY, other than sledding at my grandparents at Christmas and hiking mountains in summer.
I grew up in Boca Raton in the 70s/80s, when it was a chill little beach town where everybody knew everybody. We went snorkeling right off the beach and caught everything from seahorses to French angelfish. Everybody had a saltwater aquarium. Almost every summer day ended with Marco Polo and chlorine eyes. Our high school had no air conditioning; we had sweat dripping off our noses and gnats in our eyes. But nobody complained.
Growing up in Florida was amazing. We lived five miles west of the city, in the boondocks. Our neighborhood was tiny, seven houses with a few acres each, and a ton of kids.
Days were spent riding horses or dirt bikes, setting my traps to catch and tame wild animals, or reading as an afternoon Florida thunderstorm threw sheets of rain at my window. On calm days, I flew my model rockets and balsa-wood planes.
Nights were spent peering through a wobbly telescope and slapping mosquitoes, or running through pastures under a full moon, playing flashlight tag with the other kids. It was a unique place and time that exists now only in memory.
- What do you cherish most about the place you call home?
Even though I no longer live there, in my heart, home is Florida; I’m a Sunshine State kid from elementary school to the University of Florida School of Engineering. I worked at IBM in Boca until they closed the site and transferred me to Raleigh, NC.
I guess it’s common to imprint as home the place where we came of age, spent our formative years. First date, first kiss, first car, first everything. For me, that’s Old Florida; the places with one traffic light, with live oaks, Spanish moss, beaches, and natural springs. It’s a place where the loamy smells of a Cypress marsh or sweet night-blooming jasmine are never far away.
North Carolina is a close second. It’s only two hours to the beach and three to the mountains. We have four seasons, get one or two snowfalls each year, and the people are wonderful. I’ve lived here almost 30 years and it’s still a novelty to light the first fireplace fire of the year.
- What ignites your creativity?
Like most, I can’t force it. Staring at a blinking cursor will produce something that, in morning light, is truly cringeworthy.
I get ideas when my mind is relaxed: When I’m walking along the nature trail at dusk, listening to the booming hoots of barred owls. Or strumming a few chords for the dogs. Or especially in my happy place, on a road trip. It’s almost guaranteed that something will pop into my mind. I keep a tickler file on notes; I’ll add 5-6 words as a placeholder and revisit it later.
I’m both a Panster and a Plotter, although I lean toward the former, especially with short fiction and poetry. As the storyteller, there’s a trust with the reader, one I don’t take lightly. Attention to detail avoids breaking the spell.
My plumb line is: “If your writing makes you smile, laugh, or cry, then you are on the right track. Write from your heart. That’s what people want to read, fiction or poetry.” I don’t remember who said that, but it’s my standard. If I write something and the next day it doesn’t move me, out it goes.
I have a really good memory and recall events, places, and faces, even from long ago. People ask me how I do it. I don’t know, sometimes all it takes is a fleeting odor or a snatch of music to jog something from the past with startling clarity. I think that’s why I get a lot of “I felt like I was there” type comments about my stories, the detail. It gives authenticity, makes it relatable. Most of the recollections, short stories and poetry on my blog are based on my own experiences. “Only write about what you know,” as Papa said.
- Do you have a favorite word and could you incorporate it into a poetic phrase?
I’ve got a phrase: My toes curled. It displays profound embarrassment, alarm, or fear, often in a comical way.
My toes curled as I realized I wasn’t on mute.
- What is your pet peeve?
People who honk the horn the instant the light turns green.
- How would you describe the essence of Darryl B?
I’m outgoing, enthusiastic, and make friends easily, but that doesn’t mean I take friendship lightly; I still correspond with a kid I met in kindergarten. Of course, things change, and if it’s time to move on, I’ll let them go…but always keep the porch light on.
I’m a romantic. I like happy endings, where the boy gets the girl or vice versa, handshakes, forgiveness, and closure. Is that a simplistic view of life? Yeah, probably. But everybody is carrying their own load. We all struggle. I prefer to dwell on the uplifting, the “what if” kinds of things.
I’m out on the beach at midnight, taking long-exposure pictures of the Milky Way. Or hunting with a flashlight for sea turtles laying eggs in the sand. I’m sitting on my board at sunset, trying to catch one more wave, watching a fat yellow June moon come up.
I poke around abandoned houses, looking at all the personal stuff just left behind, wondering what happened to the people who lived there. What life was like there 100 years ago, and if they reached their dreams.
I have three daughters, and they’re my life. They were all home-schooled, and I impressed upon them a love of 1970s music, my favorite books, and the natural world. They all play the piano, and two of them surf. It’s a glorious kaleidoscope of memories: Christmas mornings, campouts, beach vacations, and long road trips. Big things and little things; a heartbreaking end to a romance; or a bad haircut for a Barbie.
I have this insane wanderlust; I can never get enough…the itch to see what’s down this road or over that hill. My longest was when my wife and I lived in our VW camper for eight weeks and travelled over 10K miles. We used the old school Rand McNally Road Atlas and found the dinkiest little back roads we could. Nothing better than tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, and a campfire after a day of exploring.
Sometimes I just stand back and get lost in the wonder of it all. God has been good to me.
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