J.P. Colman hails from his home in Canada and is subsequently torn between the use of metric and imperial units every time he sits down to write. He is married to a wonderful woman who is much smarter than him, has three wonderful cats who are much wiser than him, and doesn’t know how to use the rule of thirds properly.
When not procrastinating (writing is only for when boredom has taken over or inspiration strikes) he enjoys reading, playing video games, watching the television, or imagining his life if he were a time traveler from the year 2088 who’d recently arrived in our era with nothing but a USB key containing an executable that deployed a wise-cracking AI that would help him plan the global destruction of capitalism. He also had five years of jazz and two years of hip-hop as a youth in the 90s.
He now writes about himself (and others) in the third person (and occasionally first) and refuses to pick a lane or genre or anything that would help him build an audience. If you’re reading this, it’s probably by accident or you’re his wife. If it’s his wife, he promises he will clean the cat litter tonight. Maybe tomorrow.