Native Midwesterner, Michigan-born
Cut my teeth at the nexus of cars, cows, and corn
Escaped to Ann Arbor to earn my degree
Then I moved out to Brooklyn to hone my ennui

Bounced around different jobs trying to find my profession
Knew I wanted to write but just what was the question
Teamed up with some friends with the same predilection
Formed a publishing house printing modern pulp fiction

Won fans, distribution, and some notoriety
Lost our heads and our shirts and our grip on sobriety
When a book event brought us out West to L.A.
The weather seemed nice so we opted to stay

Conspired with my girlfriend to uproot her life
Must’ve worked out okay because now she’s my wife
Wrote for hire for clients who hired me to write
Plied my words in the day and played music at night

Work was famine or feast, it required endurance
I upgraded to staff, mostly for the insurance
Had a daughter, a son, two cats, and a mortgage
Have to feed many mouths so we mostly eat porridge

Still it’s working out fine, and I’m happy to say
That I’m still getting paid to write day after day
No one knows what life brings, but for now seems to me
I’m in passable shape for a WIP