Michael Poore

Michael Poore

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I grew up in Ohio, and lived there for most of my early life. I went to college at Ohio University, and drove a taxi cab for a while. It was a country taxi. I used to go waaaay out into the hills and give people rides. One time somebody paid me in rabbits. Another time, I accidentally helped someone escape from jail (they caught the guy a day later, and the police advised me to be more careful who I picked up at 4 in the morning outside the city building, especially if it was someone running down the street in their underwear). Not long after, I fled the state and settled down in Indiana. Started a teaching career. Raised some dogs. I used to have a dog named Reggie, who was crazy-smart. He used to open up the fridge, take out the butter, and eat it all. A whole tub of butter. Another dog, Jake, was huge and enthusiastic. One day I came home from work to find all of the dogs poking their heads out of the front window, because the window was GONE. Jake had (I presume) seen someone walking down the street, wanted to get to know them, and jumped through the window. He went through the fence once, too. I still live in Indiana, with my wife and daughter. We have one dog, Angie, who doesn't do anything crazy or expensive; she just likes to snuggle. One of our favorite things to do is go on long road trips. Specifically, I should say, my wife and I enjoy going on trips. The last time we went on a long trip, we took 2 weeks driving across the Plains, through the Rockies, down through the Southwest, stopped in Roswell to see the aliens, up through Texas and Oklahoma and Tennessee, etc. After that, the daughter was traumatized for a while. Her eye twitched. Whenever we told her we had to get in the car and go somewhere (like, to the store or out to dinner), she wouldn't go near the car without demanding to know when we would be BACK. I've written a lot of stories, and several novels. Not all of the novels are published. My first novel, a fantasy with wizards and heroes and a dark lord, was misplaced and is now lost for all time. Another was too long to publish. Another was accidentally lost when all my disks (from the earlier days of the computer age) were run over by a car. But then I wrote 'Up Jumps the Devil,' a hilarious biography of the devil, and it was published by Ecco. A few years later, I wrote 'Reincarnation Blues,' which was published by Del Rey. Now I'm working on something else. I do a fair amount of writing in my car. I drive somewhere, maybe up by Lake Michigan, and sit there for hours, typing away. Sometimes the cops slow down as they go by, and give me looks. One day, I suppose, they'll stop and wonder aloud what I'm doing. Either that or they'll stop and say, "Hey, are you the idiot who confessed on his author page to helping somebody escape from a jail in Ohio?" and haul me away in handcuffs. I hope not. I'll keep you posted.
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