When I'm not smoking brisket in the backyard, I'm an author of very short fiction and nonfiction. My work has appeared in Brevity, SmokeLong Quarterly, Tin House, Origins, and other places. I received a Pushcart Special Mention in 2016 for my nonfiction essay 'Slapstick'.
You want a more formal bio? Very well. Here goes, written in the third person, with a snazzy author photo that make me look tortured -- just like that Chuck Close self-portrait and everything.
Plus -- BONUS -- it's all true.
Thaddeus Gunn was born at nine minutes after midnight with a caul over his face. Virginia Coffee, the delivery nurse, said so. She was a friend of his parents. “You gotta watch this one”, she said. “He’s gonna be special.” “Like ‘double jointed’ special or ‘unquenchable thirst for blood’ special?” they asked. She said nothing, just slowly raised her eyebrows and dropped her jowls, her pallid face becoming a mute kabuki; a silent augur of the infant’s singular fate.
Fifty-some years later, he is still waiting for either a celestial gardyloo or magical bonanza to punctuate his prosaic existence.
This is my first post. Thank you in advance for welcoming me to Steem. I hope to be a positive and constructive part of the community. Cheers, -Thaddeus
