I was born in the frozen wasteland of Alaska with the unfortunate stigma of being both a daydreamer and left-handed. Starting from an early age, I’ve filled my life with stories of every sort, from my father’s hunting trips to the Holy Trilogy (read: Star Wars). In the fourth grade, I became more interested in telling stories of my own than listening to those of others. Doctors—being doctors—attempted to medicate them out of me, but the best cure has always been a pen, a notebook, and my crazy, unrestrained imagination.
I continue to whittle away at these stories in my endless search for the one that will finally bring me back to reality. All the while, I secretly hope such a story will never come along. I hear “reality” is far too boring.
After escaping the North, I moved to Michigan, where I fell in love with (and married) author Emlyn Chand. Together we manage our menagerie of birds and dogs in our lakeside house in suburban Detroit. When I’m not writing or chasing after disobedient curs, I play video games, develop apps, and try my hand at any exciting hobby to come my way.