Whatever. I wish it was worth it, but it isn’t, because all you get is this half-assed bio written under duress (I’m being told that if I don’t write a bio, they’re going to grind my fingers up in a large pencil sharpener).

Shit. Ok. I can do this.

My name is Brandon Smith. I’m thirty-something. I don’t believe in astrology, which is probably because I’m a Taurus. I do believe in ghosts, which is probably because I’m not dead yet. My two favorite things are named Jack and Luna, and I get to tuck them in every weekend. I write stuff to process other stuff, and there usually ends up being something anthropomorphic that’s come to life to chain-smoke cigarettes in drag. That, or something about garbage disposals. I don’t know what that says about me, psychologically, but it can’t be good. If I’m being honest, I’m glad you’re here (but please don’t tell anyone that).

I’ve got a couple things people were silly enough to print (previously under the pen name Julian Porter), and you can find them somewhere else on this website (go find it, I don’t know how to link you there. What do I look like, a computer scientist? *Edit: I figured it out. But I’m not going to link you there. There’s only four damn pages on this website, stop being lazy*). I’m also in the process of querying my first novel, which is about a gay clone of Jesus, and a novella (pretentious sounding, isn’t it?), which is about a guy that sits around in parking lots talking to cosmonauts and deer-people as part of some weird, winding grief process.

That’s it. That’s the bio. Hope you hate it.