Writer, reader, ranter; Michael J. McDonald likes an eclectic range of things, but not bananas. He started writing stories before he could write by hand, sticking printed words together to form the sentences in his first days of school, then bothering the teacher to print off more so he could complete his epic. Things have come full circle, as due to injury he finds himself again unable to write by hand, but thanks to the magic box on his desk his prose continues to flow.
Being a grumpy misanthropist with a cane leads to a particularly disillusioned undercurrent in his writing, and being born in Scotland and not seeing much sunshine until the early 21st century might have something to do with this author's glass half-empty point of view. But it's not all doom and gloom. Sometimes he lets most of the characters live. Though sometimes they'll wish they didn't.