Vincent Collazo:  

CLASS OF 1975
Vincent Collazo's Classmates® Profile Photo
Hicksville, NY
Hicksville, NY

Vincent's Story

My book, SANITY'S BANE is a novel which begins in a staid Long Island suburb, where four-year-old Victor discovers six-year-old Janice and is rapidly sucked into an alluring vortex of love and madness. SANITY'S BANE details the sexual, emotional and spiritual progress of Victor Cruise as he fractures the boundaries of adolescence and encounters the taboos of adulthood. "We are all misfits, —but not all misfits are the same. Some, like Victor in Sanity'’s Bane, help us to fall in love with life despite the hardships. SANITY'S BANE is both highbrow and down-to-earth, dark yet full of hope. It paints beautiful poetic pictures, waxes philosophical, and tells a story which is both moving and hilarious. is a reminder that the love we feel is ours forever." Elizabeth Ruiz, acclaimed author of Death By Survival Even if you don't order the book, I’d love to hear from you! Here's a brief excerpt from SANITY’S BANE: My first memory, as told to Lucius Azencole: My family was moving from the Bronx to Long Island, into a Levit house. My brother and I danced on the front lawn, amid dandelions and crab apples, while our mother and father looked on from the kitchen bay window. I broke away from the dance and with pure exhilaration skipped and leapt through our new neighbors’ yards until I was stopped by what seemed an unreal image: a red-haired girl sitting on the grass with her legs ...Expand for more
stretched in front of her in a V-shaped formation. On her lap was a tidy bunch of hand-plucked dandelions; their delicate weight gently pushed her powder blue dress onto the grass. The colors of this scene live vividly in my mind—the orange of her hair, yellow dandelions, green grass, blue dress, and the milk-white of her freckled legs. More than the sudden exchange of city grays for suburban pastels was at work; as we stared silently across the yard at each other I felt an indefinable force enfold me. She scooped up the flowers and clutched them into a tiny bouquet, looked coyly from her hands to me, arose, turned and skipped away, leaving me gaping and gasping. I have thought about these, my first moments in Albinville, for many years. I have obsessed about it on nights when sleep has eluded me, yet always there remains an ineffable aura surrounding it. It seemed that all of life rushed into me, that it was at that moment I became aware of myself. I fell in love and nothing else mattered. I was four years old and fell in love. Is it possible? I was four and had been waiting all my life for her. It sounds silly. It may be my fantasy of what happened. Who knows what tricks the years have played on my memory. I’ll protect that memory, false or not, until the day I die. When I have nothing else left in my head, this memory, the girl, those flowers, that grass, shall be the measure of all reality.
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