What’s the most improbable but true thing about you?

I’m not a native to this world, and I use writing to help myself better understand those of you who are, with moderate success so far.

Why did you choose to submit to Horror Over the Handlebars?

As a child, it seemed to me that Connecticut presented itself as already haunted—long before my birth—an apt setting for urchins hungering for action, money, direction, and meaning.

Tell us a little about your story, “You Couldn’t Steal a House in the Eighties” and its genesis.
It could be true.

Tell us about “Below the Surface, We Can Only Imagine” in Horror Over the Handlebars and what you liked about it.

The roughness of the 80s felt real in this tale, all very familiar.  I also enjoyed how Below the Surface is two different stores, depending on the reader’s view.  Also, it could be true.

If you could time travel, where would you go, what would you do, and why would you do that?

I might go about 2000 years into the future (give or take a century) in order to get a good read on human social evolution, or I might go all the way.

Who would you bring back from the dead for one hour and what would you do with them?

I’d bring back my dad and have a conversation with him to clarify a few things he told me years ago when I wasn’t listening.

What's your favorite piece of art? Could be music, writing, sculpture, painting...

Whiskey.

What are you most proud of creating?

It’s a poem I’ve been working on since I was 12, which actually encompasses every poem I’ve ever written and every poem I’ve yet to write.  Even though it’s incomplete, the thing has already made some points, for examples with they don’t stop at their wrists and with give me a sturdy sediment.

What’s next on your literary horizon?

I want to make a harrowing story-version of a scene from my gaming world.  It’s not very ambitious, I know, but that won’t negate the desire.

Where can readers connect with you online?

Sure, Instagram seems easiest.