It isn't easy writing fiction when you're a vaguely humanoid lump of boiled potato and flour with a head filled with nothing but salted meat. It doesn't help that I haven't even got any fingers, but we all have to make do, right? My teenage years, a time I spent writing words so abhorrent and Godless I could only post them to RoyalRoad, was supposed to change that. It didn't. Still fingerless, but now; published. It does get better after all. Horror has always had a special place in my heart, inspired by the circumstances of my starchy situation. Hence, I write what I know, ergo: the horrors. Fantasy, drama, slice of life, action, adventure... Any genre can do with a touch of terror. Outside of all that, I remain steadfast in not dropping out of Criminology, though I am hanging on by a thread. I also enjoy the loud and proud sounds created by blowing raspberries into brass tubes, and making lines go swoosh. In short, I am an ordinary author of ordinary works.