I guess I am the classic "late bloomer." I had to sit in the front row of the class picture every year in elementary school; I didn't reach my present, permanent height until the year I got my driver's license. It took me a long time to "grow up" mentally, too; I was probably the least goal-oriented person you could ever meet.
I always enjoyed reading books, though I was convinced that I was not, and never would be, creative enough to come up with an original idea or story without cobbling it together from things I'd already seen.
And so, in my mid-forties, imagine my surprise when a story was born inside my head, and nine months later had grown so large that I couldn't hold it in any more. I'm sure many writers tell similar origin stories, but I sure wouldn't wish a three-decade gap between high school Creative Writing class and, you know, writing something actually creative.
Better a "late bloomer" than a "never bloomer," I guess.
What else? Oh, yeah, I live in Arizona with my amazing wife Vaneza, and our kids, June and Sunshine (one is a dog and one is a cat, I'll let you figure out which is which).
Interviews & media