I’m a novelist, science writer, and ghostwriter.
My first novel, The Wages of Genius, was about an office worker who thinks he’s the reincarnation of Albert Einstein. In the process of researching and writing the book, I realized that I loved learning and writing about science, and that I much preferred writing to the desk work I had been doing. Eventually I ended up working at Popular Science magazine as and editor and columnist. The workday started a little late in the publishing world, and I’m an early riser, so that gave me a few hours each morning to write fiction. But my next novel wasn’t very good. The one after that I couldn’t even finish. Plus my editor was fired. Then the imprint that published my book folded. Oh, and my agent quit to go to business school. Smart move, as it turns out. He has done really well for himself.
This was not going as planned.
A few years later, prompted by requests from my nieces and nephews, I decided to try writing a more adventurous novel. The result, recently revised and re-released as Sea of Gold, is filled with pirates, puzzles, and grand journeys. In the years since I’ve been going back and forth between fiction and nonfiction, adventure and science. I started collaborating with other writers and thinkers, too, which has been incredibly interesting and rewarding. You can check out the rest of my books here.
This isn’t really a bio, is it? What else? I used to be a pretty fast swimmer. I’m happily married with three kids. We live on Martha’s Vineyard, an island off the coast of Cape Cod. I enjoy reading, drinking coffee, surfing, hanging with my family, open-water swimming, and making stuff.
Sometimes, late in the day, I lie down on the floor of my office and close my eyes for a little while. Magritte did it, too. But don’t tell anyone, as it makes me seem unprofessional.
I prefer black shoes and sneakers, almost exclusively. My wife and kids are awesome. None of them run like me, which is great. I run like a duck.
When I bike, I wear a ski helmet, because I feel weird about owning more than one helmet.
In my twenties I pretended I was a great harmonica player and often carried the instrument in my back pocket. Sometimes, when I see people from back then, they ask if I’m still playing.
My pickup truck’s name is Marvin. He has a short bed, but he’s fine with it.