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Everyone needs a hobby. And, like most people, I hope one day that my hobby will liberate me from my mind-numbing day job. I chose writing. Not one of the easier ones. I chose it at the tender age of 14, churning out terrible science fiction novels that heaped on the cliches and barely hidden tropes of all space operas. Thankfully, those creations reside in the prison of an old Commodore 64 hard drive and several 3.5" disks (kids, ask your parents) in a landfill somewhere. And, let me be clear, the world is better for it.
Along the way, I kept writing. Through college. Through grad school. Through the beginning of my career, such as it is. I like to believe I picked up skills. I wanted to write novels that had things I wanted to see. Fantasy novels that showed magic as a perverse abstraction of the forces of nature and as a weapon of mass destruction, producing action sequences that dive deeply into the surreal. And also contain references to Immanuel Kant, but that's just because I'm obsessed with Immanuel Kant. Because he's awesome. But I digress. I also wanted to write novels that did more genre-blending. For instance, in Hand of Chaos, my debut novel, I smoosh together elements of a spy thriller and a police procedural with dark fantasy. And it's set in present day. Try explaining that in a query letter. I also wanted to write more genre novels that have characters brimming with personal problems, professional problems, and that had lots of sex. Sure, novels that do this exist. I'm not trying to say they don't, I just think too few of them are out there and I intend to do my personal best to increase their numbers. I have plenty of science fiction and fantasy work in various stages of development that will probably be flopping out in the near future. Thanks for reading.
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