That's really my hand with a dragonfly on it.
I held my hand out the window and a dragonfly landed on it.


It feels like a fun brag to say that I wrote my first play when I was eight years old.

Is it a funnier brag to say that I started writing stories shortly after learning to walk?

People were willing to pay me to write at 18 years old so it seemed logical to keep going.

Many years ago, grownup me, under a different name (names? I don’t remember), I wrote (mostly critique and “character pieces”) for the Weekly Planet, Route 41, Creative Loafing, and the Tampa Tribune (and others).

I also wrote bad/funny poetry, pretty good song lyrics in a handful of bands, and some imaginative but hastily finished short stories.

At the Tribune, I was going through my “Oscar Wilde meets Syd Barrett” phase, but it read more like “What if Quentin Crisp was straight and obsessed with the occult?”

After that, I got “serious” (-ly sick) and wrote a few books and a bunch of scripts. And sketch. And a bunch of other stuff.

A brain injury set me to mostly painting for awhile before I came back to life a few years ago and started doing standup and working with Zoon.

Now I’m writing books, scripts, poems, short stories, and song lyrics.

Full circle.

No writing samples here yet?…

I’m working on a couple of books at the moment, so samples should be in transit.

You can always follow me on Instagram.

Or, better yet, follow Zoon…