A novel about friendship, buried secrets, and the price of uncovering the truth.
Welcome
Every town has stories beneath its streets.
Some are buried beneath abandoned mines.
Others beneath baseball fields, family tables, and memories that refuse to disappear.
Bespoke is where I share those stories.
Featured Book
Seven Hills
A novel by Brent Taylor
Seven towering hills of chat ring the town—waste rock from the mines, pale and glassy in the sun. In 1954, twelve-year-old Grace Ryan arrives and quickly learns that Jasper is not a quiet place, and that danger lingers just beneath its surface.
Drawn by an old survey map, a brass tag marked B6, and questions the adults refuse to answer, Grace, Percy, and Clay uncover hidden tunnels, poisoned water, buried records, and a silence that has protected powerful men for years.
Seven Hills will be Available to purchase October 2026
Stories
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Why is the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue in February? Sports journalism is boring in February, at least 52 years ago it was. So sports were fabricated in February. Barrel jumping on ice, demolition derbies, and…bikinis? So 52 years ago, a bunch of men decided that bikinis were sport by proclamation. My brothers and I grew up…
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It’s difficult to comprehend all the political jousting about immigration policy. And even something as simple as people yearning to breathe free seems to be smothered in sound and fury. Sometimes it helps to hear a story from someone you can relate to…here is one by Rich Little. I was detained by immigration at Miami…
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I’ve always had an aversion to my own birthday parties accompanied by the candles, singing, presents, and celebration. I would rather sit in a quiet corner and engage in singular conversation with someone or perhaps read a book by myself. To borrow Philip Yancey’s term, I’m a recovering legalist, someone who loves structure but can’t sustain it…
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Malibu is beautiful. The people are beautiful also. 60 is the new 40 here and everyone looks much too healthy, glowing like they might be famous or perhaps they are names on a rolling movie credit…anonymous yet vital. And Malibuans can spot us coming from miles away like the time we did hot yoga and…
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I was the cookie guy at the end of the serving line last night. There was a small zip lock bag on the end of my right hand (we forgot the serving gloves). This made grabbing tiny icing topped sugar cookies challenging and sometimes the cookies slid like hockey pucks into adjacent gravy and the baggie…
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Weddings wear me down and my smile begins to hurt, all the eating, hosting, hugging, social adrenaline, and dancing turns my legs to jelly. After Brandon and Liz drove away, I decompressed by checking the OU/Ohio State game which only compressed me more, as I listened to the announcers describe the Oklahoma football team’s…
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I’m learning how to sing the national anthem out loud, but it doesn’t come naturally to me. And I always feel unresolved at the end of verse one because…well, it ends with a question and it’s not my favorite song, but hear me out. We all have to sing the song we know best. My wife…
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The peso will buy you fewer enchiladas today, pollsters are leaping from tall buildings, stocks are limit down, and my son is moving to Canada, which wasn’t the reason for the Canadian Immigration web site crash, but rather an interesting coincidence. What an election evening and I’m fairly apolitical. I sat watching the wide-eyed dour…
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“Can you see well enough to read the Bible?” She said, “No, and I can’t really make out your face, but I can see that your shirt is checkered.” I lied and told her I was handsome and she replied graciously, “I can tell by your voice.”
Bespoke 