I can most often be found muttering to myself over a keyboard, plugged into my iPod and breaking between paragraphs to play air drums. I’m teaching myself to play the pennywhistle and mixing up the summer’s batches of henna. I have forty-plus separate tattoos and yearn for a full body suit of ink. I tend to walk around in a haze of story ideas, dreaming of tales yet to be told, and I drink an alarming amount of coffee for someone generally perceived to be mellow.
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