I own a spot of land, just on the edge of Boulder Colorado, twelve acres, and on it I have my house, my two horses, and just about everything I have. My wife Naomi, my oldest daughter Catherine age eleven, my son Nathan age four, and our dog Peyton, he’s around nine.

Not to say I possess them, (laughing) but we have been here for just about three years now. We moved here so I could write more, and we also wanted another kid, hence Nathan. So, since I’ve been here, I have written exactly one hundred and five pages, gone through about eight good shredders on sale, and aggravated my publisher to no end.

Shannon, my pub rep, has been over here over a ten times, she always brings the family treats, and she knows I will have destroyed more paper shredders, so she’ll bring me another one. It’s almost laughable, no it is laughable. I know the authentic story is supposed to be in this manuscript somewhere, but I’ll be if I can discover it. What I should do is buy stock in some business that makes fellowes powershred ratings.

I keep burning up the motors or something, I don’t know, all I can say is that, I have not been able to use computers yet, and typing was the way it had to be. It’s a difficult story, but to give you an idea, I had been employed for a newspaper from about 1985, to the end of 19890, when there was a fire. The fire took our first son Micheal, the fire was caused by a surge on the lines, coming from our worn out network. Needless to say, I was, and still am traumatized by the whole thing. I know it seems odd, but for some reason I can’t get over it.