When the band was in the pocket—when the sax player wasn’t stoned and the guitarist steered clear of clams—Luther would play sober all night. On rough nights, though, he’d pound tequila between sets, and bad would become worse.
Freelance writer and critic-at-large for Popdose and Kirkus Reviews. Three-time JEOPARDY! champion. Work recently featured in KYSO Flash and Penny. Currently seeking representation for my novel The Honeythief. Lives and works in western New York with family, cat, and a neurotic dog.