We’ve been trying to piece together an accurate bio of the author, but unfortunately there’s a lot of conflicting information out there. The back cover of his new anthology states that he was born and raised in Vermont, and that he was the front man for a heavy metal band for nearly two decades. It also asserts the ridiculous notion that he was the band’s flutist. We know from other sources that he did indeed play the flute along with sundry other instruments. And around the same time his son disappeared inside the Zen monastery Dai Bosatsu in the Catskills to study under now defamed master Eido Shimano, there were rumors he’d disappeared himself deep in the Tibetan wilderness to study the instrument with a mysterious hermit. However, it seems unlikely to the rational reader that he would utilize the flute as a central instrument in a heavy metal milieu for that lengthy a career without getting kicked out of the band. Other sources claim he learned the Japanese shakuhachi while laid up in a brace after breaking his neck the first time (something that’s apparently happened more than once: at least one source refers to him as a human Pez dispenser). The back cover of the anthology also asserts that he’s currently a shut-in living in a broken down trailer with his thirty two angora cats. This contradicts sources that associate him with the homeless in Los Angeles: either he’s worked with the homeless, or he was homeless; the record isn’t clear. We also know that on at least one occasion while jumping from an airplane at fourteen and a half thousand feet he literally forgot to pull the cord on his parachute. Alcohol may have been involved. For all we know, based on that information, he could already be dead and we just haven’t heard about it yet.
What we do know for sure is that he is a writer of science fiction and other post-genre literary forms. His new anthology, due out sometime late in 2016, is—and let’s just put it politely, shall we?—a little disturbing.