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"I, like many writers, have had many interesting and sundry jobs after college. Some fairly decent paying, some not, but all with one thing in common: the ability to suck the soul from your body and leave you a withered, bitter husk. Of course, I still looked good, but I was nothing more than a shell of my former self. And so I turned to writing with little to no expectations, and wasn't that a lucky thing? People ask…how did you get published? Call the Vatican, because as far as I can tell, it was a full-fledged miracle. Time after time, authors will tell of how they were rejected by everyone under the sun. Hey, there's a reason they say it. It's true. All hail to Anne, the most amazing, wonderful, and damn discerning editor in the world. I’d kiss her feet if only she'd walk a little slower. "As for my personal life, I wish I could say I was a master of martial arts, but, damn…the dojo is so far away. But Bruce Lee is right here on the television. Or I could say I was a thrill seeker…there was that one impulse to skydive, but after you see one stout guy just a little too heavy for his parachute do a belly flop in a cornfield instead of landing on his feet, you change your mind pretty quickly. There's always the fascinating hobby of hanging around the Sci-Fi/Fantasy section of the bookstore in the hopes of someone picking up my book. I could then pounce and say, yes, I wrote that. Shall I sign it? Yeah, I gave it some consideration, but visions of security tossing me out on my ass as some sort of psycho biblio-stalker gave me second thoughts. "I have a dog (if you don't have a dog, how do you live?)…ninety pounds of Siberian Husky. He looks like a wolf, has paws the size of your hand, ice blue eyes, teeth out of a Godzilla movie, and the ferocious habit of hiding under the kitchen table and peeing on himself when strangers come around. Fortunately, I have another dog that is a little more invested in keeping their food source alive. By the way, all the dogs were adopted from shelters. They were full grown, already house trained, and grateful as hell. Think about it next time you're looking for a Rover or a Fluffy.