I was born in Massachusetts and grew up with the Boogey Man lurking over my bed, waiting for me to poke my head out from the covers. Ah yes, I was saved more than once by the magic protective blankets.
I moved to Washington when I was ten. I say that as if it was my choice. I was dragged, or more accurately, hauled in the back of a 1966 Ford Falcon, as I had been to a great many places. In those ten years, I’d lived in Massachusetts, Texas, Germany, and North Carolina. The longest time I’d spent in any one school was the three year stint in junior-high hell. Let me just give a doff of the cap to all the other military brats out there – been there, done that.
One of the biggest mistakes I made growing up, and it seemed like such a little thing at the time, was opting out on typing class in high school. Who knew? I was college bound and typing wasn’t a college requirement. Certainly the world wasn’t moving toward keyboard based communications anytime soon, or at least it appeared that way to me in 1975. Keep in mind that I type everything with two fingers – and I’m not that iconic two-fingered dinosaur on the daily news desk whose hands move in a blur as words blaze across the page. Nothing about me blazes.
Now for the things I’ve done right. I met my wife, Lisa, in 1981 at the University of Washington and had the good sense to marry her in 1982. It was the best thing I’ve ever done. A close second are my children, two very very funny girls, and constant source of joy to me.
I was influenced to become a writer by the comment of a good friend. He once told me I was the best storyteller he knew. Writing fiction is the art of storytelling transferred to paper. My plans to be a writer were stuffed in the deep freeze while I started a career and a family. But things are changing. The Sleeper has awakened.