Darvin Babiuk

~isms cause schisms, and ~ites cause fights

~ists clench fists and the Oxford comma ain’t right

Darvin Babiuk writes novels, short stories, articles, shopping lists, and has more than once been considered a write-off. He hopes to be around to write his own obituary. He has worked as a dishwasher, janitor, paper boy, grocery clerk, researcher, historical interpreter, oil and gas trainer and university lecturer. Friends and relatives say he has never been the same after the tragic incident at the Moosomin 47th annual Dmitro Petrycyshyn Pickerel and Perogies Cribbage tournament. His turn-ons include women with mustaches, Men Without Hats (The musical group, silly!), honey Dijon mustard and leopard frogs. If he were a vegetable, he’d be a beet, pithy but misunderstood. He wishes he could write like Scarlett Johansson's voice looks. He is a born-again critic and a card-carrying library patron. As a child, he was an imaginary playmate. He has lived more places than Sinbad the Sailor. He welcomes inquiries from agents or publishers.