In the center of it all is the teenage vampire Eddy. His life is hard, and itâs about to really suck. Dealing with high school, girls, and that whole âdaylight cooks your assâ issue asks a lot of him. His friends donât know his secretâhis familyâs secretâand he canât tell themâĶ
Not even his legendary parents fully understand him or his desire to one day become a Knight of the Order.
This weekend, everything changes.
M. is an emerging American author. His personal story is like any good novel; itâs full of mystery, suspense, drama, and comedy. He hopes his story turns into a fine wineâinstead of a stinky cheese. In any case, while M. is writing that book (as slowly as he can manage), what follows is a selection of interesting anecdotes to date.
He was raised in a barn in rural, upstate New York. M. recalls that it was quite cold in the winters, and that his family had a wood-burning furnace that never worked well. M. says he gained an early appreciation for sweaters.
In junior high, M. triedâĶand failed, to publish a book about the science of dragons. He still has the manuscript, and he plans to publish it someday.
In college, he made up a BS degree, then he earned a MFA in story-telling. M. also studied Northern Shaolin Kung Fu, and he taught it for a while.
After college, M. discovered, âI had problems with authorityâĶ And conformityâĶ And bigotryâĶ And misogynyâĶ And etc., etc., etc.â He tried to make small changes while still fitting in, then he gave up on fitting in altogether, and he started flipping tables like no tomorrow.
M. bought a motorcycle and crashed it. Then he fixed it and kept riding. He describes a way to harden oneâs nerves: âSpend a few years riding 25 miles a day, rain or shine, on Route 66 and the 495 Beltway of DC in rush hour. Youâll either be dead or a badass.â
After gaining badass status, he decided to postpone putting that last update on a gravestone, so M. decided to move out of the busy DC area. Instead of renewing the lease on his apartment, M. signed up for an awesome gym membership, moved his stuff into a storage unit, and squatted in a DC warehouse for a few months. M. worked out and showered daily at the gym, which required him to carry various bags around. Homeless people on his routes thought he was also homeless, and they would offer him advice. M. says that he always thanked them.
After six months of shenanigans, M. decided to push his luck in DC, and he signed a lease for an affordable apartment on the top floor of a building. The roof collapsed on him on Valentineâs Day. M. says he took a selfie with the rubble on his head, and, âI was pissed.â
M. now lives in Durham, North Carolina in a nice, warm house with a good roof. His local gym isnât fancy, but it does the job. M. enjoys riding his motorcycle to local coffee shops, very safely. Most importantly, he continues flipping tables like no tomorrow.