David Emery was found on the back porch in a puddle of green slime (according to his sisters). Less reliable sources claim he was born and raised in a quiet little mountain town somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. After an indeterminate number of misadventures he moved to the Deep South, feasted on southern hospitality for close to a decade, then fled to Portland in a mad gamble to save his waistline.
Over the course of his life, David has been a house painter, courier, gas station attendant, door-to-door vacuum salesman, merchant marine, and massage therapist. He hopes to one day trade his current state of mundane poverty for the much sexier poverty of a full time writer.
He has two published short stories, has won a Writers of the Future Honorable Mention, and has acted as a writing contest judge.
He currently resides in Portland, OR.