But in a good way. In a let’s-play-a-round-of-laser-tag-then-talk-Doctor Who way. Or a let’s-discuss-world-domination-schemes-at-a-used-bookstore way.
I read novels. For a living. Really.
I write. I wrote a novel. It's not exactly a New York Times bestseller, but some kid in New Zealand likes it, and that's good enough for me!
(. . . Though it could be both. Yes? Please?)
Every Sunday, I join with my fellow writer friends for a few hours of devoted creation. This has emerged as one of the greatest and happiest things I've ever done, and my writer friends mean the world to me.
As do songs. And the zombie musical I've been working on.
I have an addiction to used CDs and a general passion for music that borders on the religious.
I have a deep love of Spider-Man and an affection for comics that borders on the absurd.
I could give a very detailed lecture on cryptozoology, and have, and I can break down everything right and wrong with whatever movie we just saw, but only if you want me to.
I have “screenplay by” aspirations and very good intentions. I have a small and glorious circle of delightfully oddball friends, for whom I would do pretty much anything. I am eccentric and awkward, and most importantly really, really comfortable with who I am.
So let's talk.