David Abrams's Blog
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May.16.2012
A writer writes a book in lonely, secret seclusion (at least I do--others may spend their over-caffeinated days sitting at the local coffee shop bogarting prime wi-fi territory, tapping noisy keyboards and pausing every three sentences to read their work aloud to unwilling captive audiences at...
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Sep.20.2011
Okay, friends: It's official and I can blab the giddy news. Grove/Atlantic has made an offer on "Fobbit" and we (my agent Nat Sobel and I) have accepted. If there's a Cloud 9, then I'm on Cloud 10. It's been a long road (6 years!) and I have many people to thank for getting me this far: first...
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Sep.15.2011
My First Time is a regular feature on my blog The Quivering Pen in which writers talk about virgin experiences in their writing and publishing careers, ranging from their first rejection to the moment of holding their first published book in their hands. Today's guest is Edie Meidav,...
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Jan.20.2011
Five years ago, I came home from war.
It was the end of the longest unnatural separation from my family: 11 months and 18 days. I counted myself lucky; when we deployed to Iraq, the Rumor of the Day had it that we were in for an 18-month tour.
Fate and the whim of military brass decreed otherwise...
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Dec.31.2010
My reading habits are sporadic, flighty, and subject to change at the next FedEx delivery to my front door. The best way to describe it is a dog chasing a butterfly through a meadow: snapping his teeth at first one butterfly then, as another crosses his field of vision, suddenly dodging after that...
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Oct.08.2010
GREAT FALLS, Montana – O_____ H_____ died peacefully in Community Hospital of Great Falls on Monday, June 21, 2010, from a little bit of everything.--The Great Falls Tribune, June 24, 2010
It wasn’t just that bitch Cancer or the chemo or the loss of the right breast or the swollen postulating...
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Oct.07.2010
As I was going into Wal-Mart, a man with a useless arm was coming out. I’d never seen anything like that arm—a dangle-flesh, rubbery thing with no purpose. Made me stop where I was, halfway in the door, and turn to look. Even made me go blank for why I was there in the first place. Julie...
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Oct.01.2010
On a recent morning at the International House of Pancakes, while eating hash browns that crunched with the afterglow of cigarettes and sipping water that came from moldy faucets, I sat next to a family of three—a scruffy skater-type with droopy eyes and shaggy haircut, his overweight sister and...
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Sep.15.2010
Rosanne Cash sleeps with songs in her head. “I dream they fall down through the centuries, from my distant ancestors, and come to me,” she tells us in her memoir, Composed. “I dream of lullabies and sea shanties and keening cries and rhythms and stories and backbeats.”
As the daughter of Johnny...
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Sep.14.2010
Looking back through the journal I kept during my deployment to Iraq, I came across these four entries--four days which were pretty typical of the 345 I spent over there. The events of the Sept. 14 entry forms the basis of what is currently the opening scene of Fobbit.
September 11, 2005: In a...
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About David
I'm the author of Fobbit (Grove/Atlantic), a comic novel about the Iraq War. I earned my BA in English from the University of Oregon in 1987 and my MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Alaska in 2004. After working as a reporter for newspapers in...
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