HeyJaredMr. Vengeance
I write nonfiction - often about doling out vengeance with a sense of humor and responsibility. If you smolder about something you should have addressed years ago, I suggest you deliver what someone’s got coming.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 5
- Latest publication
- Sep 27, 2026
- Audience
- Checking…
- Earliest in this view
- Jul 11, 2026
Latest issues
The Grifter - an update (opens the original)
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* I published this story last summer - which means, among other things, that many of you never saw it. At the end of the piece I mentioned that I picked up a rock to reload after hitting the grifter in the ribs with the first salvo, and that I didn’t realize it was still clutching it until my mother asked about it. Well, as you can see it is a distinctive projectile - likely a sedimentary rock that tumbled in waterways for millennia. My parents have been gone for more than 20 years, but occasion
My Great-grandfather, the Rapist (opens the original)
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A week ago, I opened an email that fellow writers can relate to – the elusive, heart-stopping unicorn variety: “Your piece has been accepted for publication.” It was the 7th or 8th time I submitted this specific work – I’d need to cross-check the Duotrope and Submittable – approaching the maximum recommended by writers who know about these things, the notion being a story likely sucks (or at a minimum needs a re-write) if it’s been rejected that many times. I never re-wrote this one; I lightly e
Fifty Shades of 2014 (opens the original)
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I got married for the first time in 1999, when I was 35 years old. I was pretty much the last of the Mohicans in my friend group – several of whom were already starting families in the mid-1980s after graduating from college. I had this notion that by waiting to take the plunge, I had figured out who I was and what I wanted and had the scaffolding to know “the one” when I met her. Like Morpheus knew Neo was, well, Neo.In fairness to my ex-wife, we raised three amazing children and had some great
Electric Light Orchestra, Live in Stuttgart (opens the original)
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In the early morning hours of July 13, 1986, Gordon, Barry and I finished our final Holsten Pilseners and strolled around the red-light district in Hamburg, Germany. Drained from the prior day’s train ride from Amsterdam (and from the Space Cakes – if you know, you know) and feeling the effects of numerous pints, a gaggle of punk rockers took an interest in us and kindly pointed the way to the metro that would return us to our hostel. It was unseasonably cold in Hamburg, and we were glad to get
Emergency Breakthrough for Scott (opens the original)
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September of 1976 marked the start of junior high school for me. The school year started just weeks after the debut album by Boston, and I dropped the needle onto it each day when I came home from school. Where I grew up in northern New Jersey, junior high encompassed grades 7-9, what today is commonly referred to as middle school – although middle schools now span grades 6-8. It was a time when I was simultaneously afraid of and obsessed with girls. As an example, in the spring of 6th grade, lo
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