I’ve jumped around the Great American Southwest for a few years now, dotting the landscapes of Utah, Colorado, and now, New Mexico. I was lucky to have grown up in a book-friendly house—my asthmatic lungs kept me indoors and on sidelines—and I spent a childhood and adolescence nose-deep in dystopian sci-fi, American renaissance lit, and, perhaps most importantly, Spider-Man comics (which I will one day, mark my words, write professionally). I love playing music, reorganizing my too-large book collection autobiographically (but always putting James Ellroy first), getting short stories published, watching anything with Orson Welles in it, and drinking green tea. My dog, Hitch (short for “Christopher Hitchens”), follows me just about everywhere, occasionally including the office. I’m a devoted uncle of seven, a proud godfather of three, and I plan to name my first novel Church Bells Ringing in the Middle of a Gunfight, regardless of its subject matter. And I’ll one day own a melon farm. Weird goal, but hey. There you have it.

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