A singular writer with a preference for the adjective twisted, he stands out for rare books and stories set in rural America, where nature dominates and language moves in a pulsating, unseen current. Though not a science fiction author, he borrows the narrative tools of the genre to spring surprises in a distinctive way. There is a certain kinship with Raymond Carver, and his work deserves broader readership and deeper respect.
Closing an interview is no easy feat, because this writer is among the few who seem to forget that we are in the twenty‑first century, where devices and networks are omnipresent. The phone used during the interview isn’t his; it was lent. In Nantucket, off the coast of Massachusetts, a white whale makes a symbolic appearance as a ship collides with a classic work, highlighting the enduring resonance of sacred themes in the author’s writings and Herman Melville’s legacy.
Two loyal shepherd dogs accompany the writer on road trips that take him far from Tucson, where he spends several months each year with his daughter. His delivery vehicle has logged nearly 300,000 miles, and he embodies a nomadic spirit that some readers might sense in his voice. The interview process itself is accepted with grace and a cheerful ease characteristic of him.
In this context, the writer’s distinctiveness can be seen in how time itself feels differently to him. This is part of the throughline since the last notable novel began circulating, a work that gained attention in both American and Spanish-speaking literary circles. A finalist for major prizes, this latest contribution stands within the landscape of post‑apocalyptic fiction.
Asked about output, the writer acknowledges that many critics agree the strongest material is found in his short fiction. He is not hurried to publish a new novel; instead, he continues drafting a volume of essays and nearly a hundred micro‑stories, maintaining a steady pace that defies conventional schedules, while not compromising the integrity of each piece.
warn with a trial
A title drawn from agricultural imagery, La Rastra, signals a thoughtful work orbiting a deeply nature‑minded creator who is passionately engaged in conservation. Earlier, he published a work warning about climate action, and the atmosphere in the new book mirrors that earnest concern. Where others whisper about an approaching end, this writer sketches a horizon where humanity adapts to a damaged world. The conversation mirrors real events—from the pandemic to shifting transportation choices—yet the underlying message suggests a persistent, probing doubt about whether we have really changed as much as we claim.
The writer’s background includes a spiritual thread, shaped by a family rooted in Congregational faith. Religious ceremony and habit influence much of the author’s work, with biblical motifs and sermon echoes shaping both tone and imagery. Faith is treated as a central mystery that informs the literature’s emotional texture.
nothing intellectual
Religion serves as a quiet key to bridging the living world and the realm beyond. Perceived as an intuitive thinker rather than an intellectual, the writer leans into a fluid reality where events oscillate between tragedy and absurdity. The recurring figure Khristen, a child who dies in infancy or whose mother believes in this outcome, anchors a world that feels like an intermediate space between here and what lies beyond. The author notes that our fragile Earth is treated with uncertainty, echoing a broader worry about how humanity responds to ecological signals. The aim is not to sensationalize but to illuminate how time and nature press forward, regardless of human plans.
The writer prefers a simple, mechanical tool from a bygone era, keeping technology at bay and preserving a tactile, manual approach to creation. In this light, the work stands out within American literature as a singular voice, capable of warmth and humor even as it faces stranger, rarer visions. The farewell voice on the other end of a difficult conversation in Nantucket fades, leaving a lasting impression of a writer unafraid to explore unusual terrains.