Jim Brennan philadelphia authorMy earliest memory of writing was in third grade when a stern-looking woman with a five o’clock shadow and wearing a long blue robe sentenced me to scribble “I will behave during class” one hundred times for some frivolous infraction. Since that moment decades ago, I’ve written mostly nonfiction–industry reports, magazine articles, blog posts about this and that–until I had a brainstorm to translate notes I’d kept while training for a marathon into the memoir Twenty-four Years to Boston.

I joined the Bucks County Writer’s Workshop to have the memoir critiqued, and found myself surrounded by writers of fiction. Then one day I read a quote by a fellow named Hemingway, who said, “Most of the people in this story are alive and I was writing it very carefully to not have anybody identifiable,” and a light flickered inside my brain. The blue-collar, row house neighborhood of my youth, where churches were outnumbered only by Irish pubs, was the fertile soil where stories grew like wildflowers. And the years I worked on the Philadelphia waterfront, loitered in squalid saloons, and witnessed bare-knuckled brawls from many points of view added depth and realism, those close cousins of humanity and romanticism, to the stories of the working class.


So begins my stories, some truer than others. If you find my fiction resembles my nonfiction, it is because my fiction is merely nonfiction viewed in one of those funhouse mirrors. The characters, however, are fabrications, composites, or extractions, of people I’ve known, worked with or observed, or at least that’s how I remember them.

My first work of fiction is Once A Welder, a collection of eleven stories about the men and women who labor for a living; in other words the infrastructure of our society. My characters—welders, carpenters, ironworkers, bartenders, roofers—are flawed and endearing, fragile and resilient, and their lives are lessons about hard work, hard living, love and redemption. They work arduous jobs, raise families, battle their demons, coach Little League, and then congregate at pubs in the evening. The stories are set in Philly shipyards, warehouses, construction sites, pubs and homes, but are relevant to any urban environment.

Once A Welder is forthcoming, and I will post periodic updates of the process to publication.

3 thoughts on “

  1. Jim,
    Just received “24 Years”, can’t wait to get started on your journey. Read the Dedications and Acknowledgments but it was the 3 generations illustration that really grabbed my attention.

    Growing up in the NE in the ’60s, I must admit we struggled financially. We bought the Chuck Taylor black high top rejects down on Pratt St. for $5 and when they got a hole in the sole we stuffed cardboard in them ’til we could afford a new pair. But, it appears the young Jimmy in the illustration is wearing rags tied to his feet. Artistic justice I presume. “Rags to Riches”?

    OBTW – great rendering! Good job Jo-Anne!

    • Yes, the Chuck Taylor’s from Pratt St. for $5. Now there is a blast from the past. The collage is of my grandson, son and I created by my artistic Aunt Joanne. Thanks for the note!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *