CL Lucas grew up on the bayous of South Louisiana and spent two decades in uniform — Navy aircrewman to B-52 crew — before he ever spent one at a desk. He writes the distance between where he came from and what he carried back. Under the pen name Jeaux Dirte, he writes it with none of the restraint.
“I write what the bayou buried and the military wouldn’t say. Louisiana gave me the voice. Three wars gave me the stories. The page is where they finally meet.”
— CL Lucas
All these make up the sum of human life; a dream within a dream, a wind at night howling across the desert in despair, seeking for something lost it cannot find.
For of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: "It might have been!"
Fiction with teeth. Poetry with mud on it.
