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Roy L. Pickering Jr. Books

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Patches of Grey

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“If Audrey sensed what he was contemplating, her silence did not let on. He turned from the window and found her looking at him with a flawless poker face. It may have been attentiveness and curiosity to hear what he would say next, or perhaps she was expecting from him what women throughout the ages, often against their better judgment, had expected of men.”

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Book:Matters of Convenience
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“...the locale did not make him think of her, nor did most things. He felt no negativity about the time they had spent together, but simply did not dwell on it much. She had been a seat filler, memorable as the smiling face of a beautiful girl in the window of a passing train, inspiring a fleeting moment of joy and promise, immediately forgotten with the opening of that day’s newspaper.”

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Book:Matters of Convenience
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“Life was a swirl of mysteries, each one waiting to be plucked up and explored, but not necessarily solved. As the weight of responsibility bore down on a person, it could feel like a long list of chores leading up to the final one - figuring out how to die with dignity. But Quincy’s interpretation of his surroundings seemed a truer representation of life’s meaning, or rather, the lack of meaning other than to dazzle and delight and befuddle from cradle to grave.”

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“Was happiness (which was perhaps achieved not by getting what you wanted, but rather, by obtaining what you didn’t know you wished for until it was in hand) a hologram that would continually change appearance with the slightest shift of perspective? Or maybe happiness by definition was a temporary state of being recognizable only in hindsight. It was impossible to catch what always managed to be overrun and end up in the rear view mirror.”

FictionNovelContemporaryAfrican AmericanNew York CityMainstreamAmazonLiteraryPocWomen S IssuesDiverse CharactersRoy L Pickering JrUpmarket Commercial FictionKindle Scout
Book:Matters of Convenience
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“On occasion he would think back to the fiercest passion it had been his pleasure to experience and reflect on what might have been. He would look upon the woman who occupied the opposite half of his bed and feel his life had not quite lived up to the promise of another day. These moments would be mercifully brief, or so he hoped.”

FictionNovelContemporaryAfrican AmericanNew York CityMainstreamAmazonLiteraryPocWomen S IssuesDiverse CharactersRoy L Pickering JrUpmarket Commercial FictionKindle Scout
Book:Matters of Convenience
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“It was just a word. It took nothing from him. It made him feel only as low as he allowed himself to feel. His own brother used it in conversation habitually. But not in the same way - filled with malice, overflowing with insult. He couldn't tear his eyes away, shook with lust for retribution. Six little letters making one huge statement. NIGGER.”

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“C.J. had once believed that he understood who he was, what he was about, what he was capable of. But when the moment came to act upon these convictions, he discovered that his knowledge of self was faulty. Had his lack of killer instinct been a momentary lapse, first time jitters? Or was there more to it than that? If not the fearless, remorseless man he supposed himself to be, then just who was he?”

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“She had a pretty good idea what Tony was seeking. He couldn't look at her without seeing her mother, and father, and brother. He needed to know for certain that she would never share their point of view, one which saw nothing beyond the color of his skin. Janet wanted to abolish his doubts but could not, for the simple reason that she did see Tony's color. The genesis of their love was physical attraction, and his complexion had lured her the same as hers undoubtedly pulled him. It was not his blackness that she fell in love with, but it was a part of him, and therefore, a part of what she loved.”

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“Tony's concern disintegrated. He could not understand C.J.'s determination to court death on a daily basis. Or maybe he did understand, and this was what caused his frustration. So many found the same solution his brother had. Selling death to their own people. The money was a difficult lure to resist. Additionally, the fear elicited from their hard core posturing proved nearly as addictive. They demanded to be heard, even though it didn't seem they had much to say. Perhaps the futility and smallness that characterized their lives was too overwhelming to articulate in any manner other than a primitive, incoherent scream. Maybe it was inevitable that those who felt they had no stake in society would opt to destroy it.”

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Book:Patches of Grey
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