That guy who still writes with a fountain pen and a 1950s typewriter
I was born in Chicago during the Richard J. Daley administration and spent my formative years playing on the railroad tracks at the end of my street, reading MAD magazine and a host of horror comics, watching The Twilight Zone and stinking up the house with my basement chemistry lab. An unabashed polymath, I can usually be found these days in secondhand bookstores and libraries, searching for obscure texts and reveling in worn bindings and foxed pages. I am also an avid musician, artist and cyclist, and my summer travels invariably find me happily lost along the trails and backroads of America.
I began my career 40 years ago writing independent film and video scripts and expanded my repertoire to include newspapers, newsletters, radio ads, magazine articles, corporate literature, plays, book reviews and just about everything else that can be written. Like Burgess Meredith in Time Enough at Last, there are never enough hours in the day for me to read. Being called an egghead is a compliment.
Like all sensible mammals, I hibernate during the winter but take lots of notes.