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Larry Garland in Brief

There was a time I sought to be a poet/
Believing verse was in my soul, wanting out/
But to become a bard I had to intuit/
Poetry is my soul, winging about/

I’m a wordsmith. I’ve written or edited the words of leading CEOs and the reports of global companies destined for stockholders or regulators of the world’s largest financial institutions. The technical writing and editing are my advanced training. But, I’ve also authored nationally appearing poetry and short stories in print and online media. Still, when it comes right down to it, I’m just a Southern storyteller. Now, that’s where my heart is, and that’s what I'm all about.

Apr

When the Role Is Called Up Yonder

written by Larry Garland

- April 13th, 2010

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An old college friend of mine is in mourning. He just lost a distant family member back in Tennessee. However, as is true for many gays, this deceased family member doesn’t feel so distant emotionally. Sometimes it’s our extended family members—or even our friends—who become family. This is especially true when our closest family rejects [...]

Tags: Alice, college, Family, friend, gays, heritage, home, Jew, Mad Hatter, Tennessee, white rabbit, Wonderland •

Posted In: Family

Mar

Restoring a Friendship

written by Larry Garland

- March 27th, 2009

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Ah, the power of Facebook. One day recently, I received a mysterious Friend request. It had no details, just a name—one I didn’t recognize. Or did I? Something about it was vaguely familiar. Soon afterward, another request came in. This one said, “Could you possibly be the Larry Garland I knew back in my college [...]

Tags: college, Facebook, New York City, protagonist, Scarlett, South, Tennessee, tomorrow •

Posted In: Uncategorized

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From One of My Book Manuscripts …

"Why pay large salaries to older, more experienced employees who may have lost their religious zeal when there is always a fresh market of beautiful, youthful men and women, novitiates cloaked in exuberance, who can be primed by use of just a few dollars to contribute an offering of long hours and weekends in their own search for the Holy Grail?"

… And Another selection From A Different Book to Come

It was more of a vibration right at the cusp of hearing than a definite sound. It possessed a unique tone that suggested human voices just out of range, as if those moaning morning presses had their own story to tell—if only man’s senses were a bit more acute.

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