Slope of Hope Blog Posts

Slope initially began as a blog, so this is where most of the website’s content resides. Here we have tens of thousands of posts dating back over a decade. These are listed in reverse chronological order. Click on any category icon below to see posts tagged with that particular subject, or click on a word in the category cloud on the right side of the screen for more specific choices.

Do Me a Solid?

By -

I know many folks here have read my novel, and I truly hope you enjoyed it. If so, I need a small favor.

Solid State is now available in hardcover on Amazon, and although it has received good reviews (average 4.7 stars), I could use some more! (Some of you have left good reviews already, but there’s bound to be more!)

If you would please take a minute to leave a brief review by clicking here, it would really help me. Thank you!

The Big Print

By -

Just to come right to the point, you should buy the new book The Big Print. It’s outstanding, and the country would be better off if every single citizen read and understood it. That’ll never happen, of course, but one can always dream. Anyway, let me back up a bit.

A couple of weeks ago, when I was on Amazon, The Big Print was presented to me as a recommended purchase. I was intrigued by the title, and after reading a brief summary (and seeing the good reviews), I decided to buy it. It arrived a couple of days later, and once I started reading it, I had trouble putting it down.

It didn’t start off great, because when I read the Foreword to the book, it was made plain to me that this would be a celebration of Bitcoin and its opportunity to save us all. I had already purchased and read enough Bitcoin books to not want to endure another sermon, but I decided to press on, and I’m glad I did.

(more…)

Capote’s Christmas Memory

By -

I grew up in the deep south of the United States, and as such, I have a certain allegiance to Truman Capote. Here, in its entirety, is his short story, A Christmas Memory. Merry Christmas, Slopers.


Imagine a morning in late November. A coming of winter morning more than twenty years ago. Consider the kitchen of a spreading old house in a country town. A great black stove is its main feature; but there is also a big round table and a fireplace with two rocking chairs placed in front of it. Just today the fireplace commenced its seasonal roar.

A woman with shorn white hair is standing at the kitchen window. She is wearing tennis shoes and a shapeless gray sweater over a summery calico dress. She is small and sprightly, like a bantam hen; but, due to a long youthful illness, her shoulders are pitifully hunched. Her face is remarkable—not unlike Lincoln’s, craggy like that, and tinted by sun and wind; but it is delicate too, finely boned, and her eyes are sherry-colored and timid. “Oh my,” she exclaims, her breath smoking the windowpane, “it’s fruitcake weather!”

(more…)