Author Expounds on Labor of Love

Peter Brav is not much of a baseball player but he\’s written three novels where the diamond provides a setting for triumph over adversity in one way or another. Sneaking In (set during the 1999 Yankees championship season), The Other Side Of Losing (set during a Chicago Cubs championship season) and now 331 Innings (set in a small Nebraska town). Add in Zappy I\’m Not, a memoir of a cranky middle-aged man reincarnated as a small dog, and you have a literary celebration of all manner of admirable underdogs.

331 Innings

“331 Innings is a powerful tale narrated by elderly, Nebraska native Jack Schram, a lifelong witness to the folly of war and hypocrisy. Jack tells of the bullying encountered by his nephew\’s teenage son, John, born with physical disabilities. It hasn\’t been any easier for John\’s close friend, Sarah Jenkinson, harassed at school since moving to the area a few years ago…

THE DOUR OF MUSIC

  THE DOUR OF MUSIC by Peter Brav   I went to a Jackson concert one Friday night last month in an old Loew’s movie house so grand they named it the Kings Theatre when it opened on Brooklyn’s Flatbush Avenue in 1929 less than two months before the epic stock market crash. Abandoned in […]

More Than a Score

  ACRONYM TO FOLLOW by Peter Brav   Finally Our Day has come There’s a Day for everything For doughnuts, siblings, eight track tapes Grilled cheese, daughters and sons to work Encouragement, Alzheimer’s Coffee, math, chewing gum Blasphemy, yo-yos And now finally One for us Truly a Day to celebrate National Don’t Shoot An Unarmed […]

SPRING TOO

SPRING TOO by Peter Brav   Back at the table to negotiate Warm blue sky running few weeks late One groundhog dropped Another one dead Give me one reason to get out of this bed Thin blood, thin patience Crazy texting drivers on all that black ice Weather and traffic every seven minutes No news […]

Directions

  A Play by Peter Brav MORNING – SOMEWHERE The front yard of a suburban home somewhere you don’t live. HAROLD emerges through the front door in gray sweatpants and maroon long-sleeved t-shirt. He is barefoot. He eyes the New York Times at the edge of the street, wondering why they can’t throw it as […]