I live and work in the suburbs of Atlanta.
I teach English to high school seniors, I’m an often-injured distance runner (my favorite distance is the half-marathon), I’m the father to two cuter-than-average children, the husband to a far-prettier-than-average wife, and (as of now) the author of a few plays, the first draft of a novel, and a growing handful of short stories. The short stories are all available for you to peruse here.
Despite the above, I have a hard time calling myself a writer with a straight face. However, I think I get a little closer every day.
One day we will all be left behind. Whether it’s the zombie apocalypse, the meteor apocalypse, the tsunami apocalypse, or the cyborg apocalypse, humanity as we know it today will simply no longer be around. The things we did and the people we know will be nothing but ash. The things that might survive are the things that we create, and if you create enough of them, then there is the slightest possibility of an inkling of a chance that they might be discovered by Whoever or Whatever Comes Next.
This, then, is my shout into the void. Whether I have anything useful to say is another matter entirely.