I was born the same year we landed someone on the moon, the Mets won the World Series, and Woodstock happened—among other things, this means I turned fifty this year. This doesn’t make me feel old at all. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go to the window and shake my fist and tell those kids to get off my lawn.
Anyhow, I was raised by a roving pack of wild librarians, who trained me in their vile and depraved ways. A steady diet of Ursula K. Le Guin’sEarthsea trilogy, J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit, Robert A. Heinlein’s YA fiction, and P.G. Wodehouse’s Jeeves & Wooster stories and novels doomed me to a life of crime. Or, rather, a life of science fiction, fantasy, and silliness. Either a career as a writer or decades of therapy was inevitable…..