In college I had a big head. I believed that I was destined to be one of the greatest writers of all time. Up there with Hemingway and Dostoyevsky. After college came reality. Much like my heroes in their early twenties, I was penniless and hungry. Unlike my heroes, I gave up, sold out and pursued suburban success.
Twenty years later I have fallen into the role that I was truthfully destined to be: a fully domesticated, stay-at-home father. I have been blessed with two beautiful, school- aged boys. I should be spending my time cleaning the house and preparing savoury meals, but instead I write.
Some of my big head still exists. I feel as though I can write any genres. Bowlfish in Gold is a novella that is about how as human beings we rarely ever question our state of being. It’s absurdist literature, think Kafka or William Burroughs. My first novel, Straight Men in Gay Bars is memoir/creative non-fiction. It examines the notion of self and the perception of oneself. It’s written in the vein of Henry Miller or Irvine Welch.
I’ve penned a zombie-styled screen play, The Second Horseman. It centres around a family trying to survive a plague of biblical proportions. I envision it one day being made into a Japanese style anime.
I literally have a box full of short stories and poems that I wrote in my college days. I’ve written about existential crisis, out of body experiences, hardboiled detective adventures, and spending quiet days talking to my cat.
My writer’s mind has a new home: cozy mysteries. I’ve recently completed my first mystery novel, Murder in Halfmoon Bay. It is the first book in a series of five. Cozies have the attribute of being completely safe. I can tell the parents at my kid’s school that I’m a writer and speak to them about my new mystery novel. If they read it, they’ll get the impression that I’m a good wholesome dad. They wouldn’t get that same impression if they read some of my earlier works. I think I’ll stay in the realm of cozy mysteries for a while; they reflect the person that I want to be perceived as, for now.