"I was born in 1969, in Houston, Texas, where my father worked for NASA. Yes, he really did send men to the moon. When I was a little over two years old, though, interest in sending men to the moon kind of tapered off. I'm somewhat bitter about that, but it did have one major benefit: my parents went looking for new work and defected from the Republic of Texas to the United States of America, giving me a chance to grow up in the land of freedom and opportunity. We ended up in Denver, Colorado, which I've called home ever since.
I spent my entire childhood and teenage years in Denver, a good place to grow up, all in all. Big enough to have everything a city should, but geographically constrained by the mountains from growing endlessly in all directions (though these days, it's making up for it by sprawling to three points of the compass) it remains, after all these years, one of my favorite places on Earth.
After high school, I was awarded a four-year, full-ride Air Force ROTC scholarship to the University of Colorado. I gladly accepted the scholarship, went off to school, and, in time-honored freshman fashion, screwed it up. My grades were miserable (after being one of the top students in high school without really trying) and off my scholarship went, into the wild blue yonder.
At about the same time, I began work with my father on the Star Trek novel The Captains' Honor (Pocket Books, 1989) which, to my chagrin, remains my only book-length publication to date. (I'm working on that. Really.) That book's eventual publication was a wonderful ego boost, but it didn't make up for my failure in school.
Shocked, and wanting to do something very different to prove myself, I enlisted in the Army Reserve as an infantryman. It was exactly as miserable as being a grunt is supposed to be, but it did teach me a lot, and I did enjoy myself some of the time. It was just what the smart but unfocused and undisciplined eighteen-year-old I was at the time needed. After a couple of years, I'd had enough of living in the mud with a rucksack and rifle to keep me company, and enlisted in the Air Force — where I'd once expected to be as an officer — as a medic.
Other kinds of growing up: I worked in the Emergency Room most of my time in the USAF, which taught me lessons of various sorts, most of them not as grim as one might expect. It's an intimate connection with both life and death, and as much as anything else — marriage, writing, service in uniform, being a goth — it's made me who I am. North Dakota was a good place for contemplating lessons learned.
Eventually I got out of the Air Force, and I came back to Denver. I stayed there for several years, through good times and bad, sickness and health ... plenty of all of the above. Then I left again, and moved on to Minneapolis, where I'm currently a student at the University of Minnesota. It's something like being in the service again, in an odd way, though no one tells me how to cut my hair. The climate adds to that impression, I think: Minneapolis isn't Minot, by a long shot, but once the northern plains are in your blood they stay there forever.
Minneapolis isn't the rodina, not quite yet. But we're working on it.
I have a good though very busy life now, mixing work and school and working toward a more stable life. When not working fiendishly on something for school, I try to spend as much time as possible with my friends and my dog Maggie. I also read, write, have conversations over coffee and/or beer, listen to music (mostly though not entirely Goth), try to stick to a workout schedule, go dancing, haunt various online fora, and sometimes even sleep."
He has since he wrote this cowritten another book with his father .
On the net: SFF Net,