Biography of Stephen Saul
The year after the fall of Saigon saw me enlisted in the United States Army. For three years I served with the field artillery in West Germany. Later, after too many years in a college classroom, I took work as a newspaper reporter and editor. Some articles from that period found homes on the AP and UPI wire services.
While at the University of Kansas, I earned a BA in political science and minored in English and journalism. I had the pleasure, and good fortune, to study creative writing under the noted novelist, Carol Hebald. 'You do write well, ' she said. Those words continue to provide a wellspring of encouragement that has kept me writing poetry, short stories and now novels.
Serious creative writing began, under a hissing steam pipe, in a basement apartment in Brooklyn, New York. While penning verse longhand, I studied poetry under the renowned poet, Hugh Seidman, at the New School University in Greenwich Village.
Three volumes of poetry have been published under my name, and a volume of short stories. I am currently at work on the second novel in The Lou Palmer Crime Series, which is based in Washington, D.C. The stories feature a retired New York mobster, who owns the hottest nightclub in the District, and his gambler sidekick. I have playfully nicknamed the series: Casablanca with firepower. I promise outrageous conspiracies for the duo to unravel, fused with action, sex and intrigue.
Since leaving New York City in the mid-90s, I've enjoyed living in the Washington, D.C. suburb of Falls Church, Virginia.
Stephen Saul's Works:
The Evil That Men Do, EBooks by Design,2012 (A First Novel)
Stone Heart, PublishAmerica,2009.
the wind is a blind man tapping, PublishAmerica,2005.
Wanderings, The Edwin Mellen Press,2000.
Stephen Saul Poems
Poet Of Working Women
i stood alone at her grave a simple flat marker on a mound of earth
Another poem With language That may be Deemed inappropriate
this poem contains language that some at poemhunter.com deem offensive
i walk softly among crucifixions where the vanquished like stands of timber
alone along the water hands
foot prints in the
cross-legged by the fire peering into the mist the sound of struggle
stone heart of the city stars and street lamps
of the city
from the neon