There are two things I am passionate about. The first thing, I cannot tell you until the year 2027, when my great-great grandma will visit me from the past and change me into the person I will become. The second thing is writing. To be more specific, writing sci-fi. To be even more specific, writing sci-fi for twelve-year-old versions of my past self in every alternate universe where I “accidentally” caught my backyard on fire. To be even more, more specific, writing for children in a way that will get them to ask their parents questions resulting in a wide-eyed look of terror followed by demands of where they ever came up with such a preposterous notion.
If you are a parent and still reading—good. Your kids deserve to have fun reading my books. If you are a child and still reading, chances are you don’t tell your parents everything because they “can’t handle the truth!” Tell them about these books. But, in a nonchalant way. You know, with that vague shoulder shrug you’ve mastered. It might fly under their radar. Oh, that’s good, I see you’re already three steps ahead of me…
If you are that small percent of the population who doesn’t laugh at slapstick humor, doesn’t chuckle at a good pun, believes “toilet” and “humor” should not stick together and is quick to correct others around you. It’s okay. Scroll away. Have a nice day. If everyone liked my books, then our world would be boring and free of conflict. Conflict is to storytelling as the Squatty Potty is to the porcelain throne. Er, ‘essential’…was that not obvious?