My name is Jacob (or Tietsu in many other places around the web) and I own this incompetently run blog that consists of mostly book reviews and smatterings of creative impulse, doubt, and all other things I can possibly justify inflicting upon the world. My favorite color is blue and every year I make a trip to the Appalachian Mountains to go foraging with my ursine companion, Zeb.
I’ve known I have wanted to be writer since I was in 1st grade. The powerful, evocative nature of the written word is among the most— I’m sorry what? Oh, Zeb. Right.
Zeb is a bear, though over the last half decade I have had the hardest time convincing him of the fact. He insists that I am in fact the bear and he is the human. He hammers this particular point home by wearing the top hat I happen to be wearing during our first encounter. As for foraging, I may have overstated the amount of effort involved on both accounts. I should probably mention that our ‘foraging’ usually involves going down to the stream to watch the salmon run and Zeb getting into a rather spirited ‘argument’ with the manager of the nearest Domino’s over the fact they don’t deliver 285 miles from their store’s location.
As for non-edibles, Zeb is particularly fond of his collection of rocks. What he will never admit is that his ‘collection’ is in fact a tributary that happens to be dry ten months out of the year. The only booty that has ever been taken is again on the part of my cohort. After having a few too many fermented berries he once insisted that I, as a bear, had no right to wear clothes, when he himself could not. Not wanting to ruin an admittedly pleasant evening I offered to share what clothes I had with him. To my horror he agreed and selected a prized red shirt from my trunk.
It is now a rather fetching scarf.
Anyway…where was I? Something about writing? Yes, that sounds about right. I’m a writer. I write things. I hope you enjoy them.
I also read, but then in a largely literate society that hardly seems worth bragging about.
My name is Inigo Montoya. This is your father. That’s not right…
Hmmmm – does Zeb sleep on my bed?