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Match Play is a golf/suspense novel. Dust of Autumn is a bloody one set in upstate New York. Prairie View is set in South Dakota, with a final scene atop Rattlesnake Butte. Life in the Arbor is a children's book about Rollie Rabbit and his friends (on about a fourth grade level). The Black Widow involves an elaborate extortion scheme. Doggy-Dog World is my memoir. And ES3 is a description of my method for examining English sentence structure.
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My newest novel, Happy Valley, can be found here.

Thursday, May 13


What will become of Tiger’s 2010? Here it is, nearly five months along the way and he’s played in only two and a half tournaments, scrambling to a tie for fourth at the Masters, missing the cut in the Quail Hollow, having to withdraw in the third round of the Players Championship. His swing seems to be all over the place, his putts still look good but nothing seems to be going in, and his face registers the pain of it all. The U.S. Open at Pebble Beach is fast approaching, and Tiger doesn’t know what he’s going to do about this mysterious ailment in his neck. He says absolutely it’s not a carryover from the crash on that ill-fated November evening. Who knows? I was convinced that he would come back with a renewed focus, just to show the world that he’s still the same fierce competitor he always was, wanting to stick it in the ears of those who have made such a circus of his situation. But now I see him in those close-up shots television loves, no joy in his shots or the results of those shots, only pain in his eyes. He loves Pebble Beach, he loves St. Andrews. Will he be around for either of them? He’s defending at the Memorial in June and the Bridgestone in August. Will he be around to defend either of them? And what about the PGA in August and the Ryder Cup in October? Will he be there for either of them? I’d like to think he’ll be playing in all the stops I’ve mentioned, but he won’t be if he doesn’t find some way to get his swing back on plane, some way to restore the joy in his eyes. No Hank Haney to help with the swing, no Elin to help with the joy. Ah, well, just wait’ll next year, as we used to say after a rather unsuccessful season of football or basketball. Just wait’ll next year.

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