About Me

I write stories like ninjas skulk around in the dark: constantly.  Most of them disappear into that place where short-term memories go instead of becoming long-term ones, but occasionally I manage to pin one down before it escapes.  When I’m not pursuing an endless procession of characters and scenes through the catacombs of my brain, I’m chasing two diminutive demons (my son and daughter) through the recesses of our house in Schenectady, NY.  When these two worlds collide, one question arises: “Daddy, how do you make up this crazy stuff?”

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