Let me tell you a story.

I was born on a strange and wondrous isle (a.k.a. Manhattan) and was promptly exiled, to be raised on the next island east (the Long, suburban one) by good people who were no doubt baffled by the tale-telling changeling who claimed to be their offspring. They packed me off to a prestigious institution of higher learning at their first opportunity.

After Harvard graduation, a passion for mythic storytelling led me on a months-long journey through Mexico and South America in search of the roots of magical realism. While on the trail of greats such as Jorge Luis Borges and Gabriel García Márquez, I was bitten by the travel bug. Despite the insect’s immense size–with mandibles like elephant tusks!–I squashed that fucker dead. But the restless leg syndrome I contracted from its bite persists to this day.

Returning home, I spent nearly a decade as a writer and editor for Marvel Comics, the superhero genre being the last bastion of mythmaking in Western culture. There giants still strode the earth, mutants struggled for good and evil, and youths were gifted with extraordinary powers. And those were just the employees.

I might have spent the rest of my life in a world of spandex, but those restless legs carried me to the rest of the world instead. My journeys have spanned six continents (and counting) and have been chronicled in various online publications. Now that I’ve returned to that strange and wondrous isle, my exile seems to be at an end. But my mind still wanders, drawn to search for the truths to be discovered only within the fantastic. Where my mind goes, my pen is sure to follow.

And if you believe all that, I’ve got a book of original myths to sell you.  –CFC