In my young days back on the streets in Brooklyn, I never thought I could be a writer. My mind was always fixed on how to make a buck. Writing was for the guys in the news, and as for books, well, let’s just say I never had a thing for books. Now, playing horses and shooting craps, that was my game. The Made Men in the neighborhood never had to push me to it. Once I got horses up my nose there was no stopping me. Back then, the years I spent … [Read more...]