About Me
A product of the tail end of Generation X, I fell in love with motion pictures and the typewriter at a very early age, always leaning toward the horror genre. It all started with VHS videos from the movie rental store, and paperbacks from the supermarket spinner rack, the ones with vivid and unsettling cover art that didn’t hold back—glorious, in your face covers and titles that screamed pulp poetry.
Those golden days (and nights) of watching and reading content designed to give me the creeps eventually turned into an interest that went beyond just consuming—it ignited a desire to create my own tales of terror.
I’m known as a horror writer (and I wear that badge with pride), but a good mystery, dark thriller, or gritty crime fiction may be the order of the day. And sometimes there’s nothing like crafting a deep, character-driven narrative that really gets into the psyche of the protagonist. I also enjoy making people laugh. A story like The Pimp and the Dead is born precisely for that purpose—whether loved or hated, I penned it and made it available to entertain. In fact, for years, I’ve harbored the dream of turning The Pimp and the Dead into a movie—I believe it would make a fantastic horror-comedy picture.
I’m prone to writing my fiction in what’s known as the “cinematic” style (also known as the “film” style). A “cinematic” story refers to a story written in a manner that evokes the feeling of watching a movie—vivid imagery that elicits the atmosphere and settings, heavy focus on action sequences, minimal internal monologues, and snappy, engaging dialogue resembling the quick back-and-forth exchanges often seen on screen.
When I learned how to write screenplays in 2002, the visual flow of the format felt natural to me, and I seamlessly integrated its essence into my prose. While I don’t exclusively employ the cinematic style, it often infuses my narratives.
Speaking of movies, the desire to create my own finally materialized when I turned 25. In the midst of the digital video revolution in 2005, I took on the roles of writer, director, and cinematographer for a “backyard” horror feature. Premiering in June 2006 on a theater screen in front of an audience of 300, this nano-budget production achieved worldwide distribution on April 3, 2007, thanks to the unwavering dedication of close family and friends. Notably, my dad portrayed one of the main characters, embodying a serial killer who redefined the phrase “trespassers will be prosecuted” in chilling fashion.
Fourteen years later, when the rights to the movie reverted back to me, I seized the opportunity to enhance the film’s aesthetic with a “grindhouse” vibe, simulating the appearance of damaged Super 8 and 16mm film. Accompanying this visual makeover, I gave the movie a new title: Fatalities and Phantasms. I’m prouder of it now than ever before, not only because it finally embodies the raw and gritty look I originally envisioned, but also for sentimental reasons—members of the cast and crew, including my dad, are no longer with us. If you enjoy nano-budget movies, consider giving it a watch as your next popcorn flick. Available on DVD directly from me, you can purchase it here or head over to the Pulp Drive-In page to stream it for free. Click here to watch the trailer.
Life has a funny way of throwing us curveballs, doesn’t it? I’ve always had big dreams—more movies made, more books published—but sometimes those dreams get tangled in the web of reality. Since I can remember, I’ve been the shy kid in the corner, watching the world spin by. But somewhere along the line, that shyness morphed into full-fledged advanced agoraphobia (or, actually, maybe anthropophobia). When there’s a knock on the door, I retreat to the bedroom. I find it challenging to engage in phone conversations even with my oldest and dearest friends; instead, I resort to texting, emailing, or messaging. While technology offers conveniences, it has also become a crutch—a means to retreat further into my shell.
It’s a genuine curse, especially for someone like me, who thrives on entertaining others. I’m a born storyteller, with a deep-seated desire to connect with people and share tales. Sadly, my mind is wired in a way that prevents me from fully embracing these innate desires. Because of this, the ability to command a cast and crew on a movie set eludes me now, and that’s truly a shame. Perhaps someday, I’ll reclaim that capability—because I yearn for it with every fiber of my being. In the meantime, I find solace in expressing my narratives through the written word—the true essence of the storyteller within me. While my love for filmmaking runs deep—at the core—I’m a writer. That’s what I am, it’s what I’ve always been, and it’s what I’ll always be . . . a writer.
I’ve lost count of the false starts on my publishing journey, the years spent gazing out windows at a world scarier than any creature that can be conjured up. But enough is enough—it’s time to stop talking and start doing. Each story I share is a battle cry, a defiant jab at the crippling beast that’s kept me captive for far too long. I’m here to entertain, but I’m also here to conquer. Before I shuffle off this mortal coil, I aim to wrestle that damned curse off my shoulders and emerge victorious.
And hey, maybe along the way, we’ll share a few scares and laughs together. Sound like a plan?