Neon Slate is, outwardly, an independent publication. Inwardly, it is something far more personal—a meeting place between cinema and the written word, where storytelling becomes both craft and spiritual pursuit.

Every novel I write begins with a journey: my own search for the way home. The stories emerge from that wandering, guided by the cinematic language that has shaped how I see the world. Images, light, movement, and sound flow together with language to create something greater than the page itself—an attempt to make life feel a little more luminous, a little more meaningful, beyond the simple miracle of breath given by God.

 

From the quiet romance of the projector beam and the hum of sound through a darkened room, to the unpredictable rises and falls of life itself, every winding road—marked by pathos, wonder, and hard-earned wisdom—has drawn me deeper into the calling of the storyteller.

Art, in many ways, has been everything in my life: healer, dealer, and sometimes even a demanding mistress. It is this lifelong relationship that gave rise to Neon Slate.

 

The publication stands as both reflection and compass, shaped by the genres that have stirred my imagination: Film Noir, Horror, Dark Comedy, Spaghetti Westerns, Art House, Cyberpunk, Neo-Noir, and beyond. It is equally indebted to the cinematic movements that revolutionized how stories are told—German Expressionism, Surrealism, Classic Hollywood, New Hollywood, Underground cinema, Giallo, and Exploitation—each one a lesson in atmosphere, form, and fearless expression.

 

From the written word, the lineage is just as rich: pulp literature, gothic novels, graphic storytelling, and the enduring influence of writers such as Ernest Hemingway, H. P. Lovecraft, Raymond Chandler, and Cormac McCarthy. Add to that the strange allure of true crime and conspiracy, and it all converges into a single impulse—the urge to go out into the world and tell stories. Because great stories matter. They illuminate the dark corners of who we are. They challenge us, haunt us, and sometimes even redeem us.

Great stories are worth fighting for.

So let’s tell them—together.