Books

Cover of the book 'Tennis Players as Works of Art' by David Linebarger, featuring various artistic depictions of tennis players against colorful backgrounds.

Winner of the Gold Medal for Outstanding Book of the Year (Original Concept) from the 2025 Independent Publisher’s Book Awards.  

Winner of the Gold Medal for General Nonfiction for the 2026 Next Generation Indie Book Awards.

Named 2025 Book of the Year by Inside Tennis Magazine.

“Soaring, Lyrical.” (Kirkus)

“Madly Ambitious.” (Editor’s Choice Review, Publisher’s Weekly).

“One of the Best Books We Read in 2024” (Independent Book Review).

Available as a paperback, hardback, and audiobook on Amazon.

Book cover titled 'Bed of Light' by David Linebarger, featuring a long-exposure image of star trails above a silhouetted tree.

Bed of Light, a collection of poetry from Finishing Line Press, is now out of print. If you wish to order a copy for eight dollars, just contact me here.

Excerpt from Bed of Light

Childhood

We ate cotton candy,
the koi fish rising
toward fragrant shadows.

Their colors blend,
scales of tesserae
at the end of sight.

I hold out me hands,
ask our father
for the plain white bread.

Our aging dog
at the end of his leash,
a car coming near.

We close our eyes.

Originally published in Borderlands, reprinted in Bed of Light

Cover of the book 'War Stories' by David Linebarger, featuring an illustration of a horse, a person, and bare trees.

War Stories, a collection of poetry from Pudding House Publications, is now out of print. If you wish to order a copy for eight dollars, just contact me here. Below is an excerpt from War Stories.

After Fifty Years

the flowers seem gifts
from a tourist’s world,
the meadows so perfect
our minds risk marriage
to the world outside.

Grandpa asks for a map.
He tells us he’s looking
for a place he remembers.
“Mauthausen,” he says
when he finds it.

We arrive too late
for the last English tour,
so our guide speaks German
as she shows us the showers.

He watches her lips
like one who needs
to lose himself
in another’s arms,

in a word here and there
he can’t quite grasp
from a story he knows
he should never tell.

First published in RE:AL, reprinted in War Stories