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who is this guy?

I guess I should write something about myself, which just feels … wrong.

Pushing forty, I’d been writing off and on for years without a thought of making it a career. About five years ago, I began to be haunted (there is no other word for it) by characters in stories I could only glimpse, sometimes only a flash or a few words. The only way I could untangle the threads and regain some relative peace was to sit down and write.

For this reason, when people ask why I bother writing when there’s virtually no chance of breaking into the film or TV industry, and almost no way of making a living as any other kind of writer, I tell them “it’s either this or go mad.”

It is not an exaggeration.

At the very least, I enjoy reading (and re-writing) the things I write. If my audience never grows beyond one reader, both audience and author will be content.


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