Biographical Information

Biographical Information

I was born in 1961 in San Antonio, Texas, where I currently reside.

This is as much preference as it is circumstance; I have visited innumerable American cities, and some foreign cities as well, but San Antonio is my home. I am a native son, and know the city intimately. It possesses a personality of its own, grown from a small oasis along the San Antonio River into a giant urban landscape. I am old enough to remember when San Antonio didn’t seem so large, and the countryside encroached pleasantly into most neighborhoods. But those days are gone now, and I accept the area’s urbanization grudgingly. Still, it is a beautiful city.

I live with my lovely wife, Susan, and our three dogs, Ozzie, Temperance, and Holly. The dogs behave predominantly as dogs behave, sleeping, eating, chasing small furry creatures and staring furiously at yet to be consumed food products. Long ago in the evolution of the canine species I believe that dogs possessed a telekinetic ability to bring food to their waiting snouts by concentrating intensely on consumables that couldn’t be acquired through conventional means. Though the ability was lost long ago, the habit of intense concentration remains.

I work in the Public Services department of the John Peace Library at the University of Texas at San Antonio, accomplishing sundry duties and assisting quizzical patrons in answering their questions about research, information acquisition and the use of resources. Accessing information has become a fascinating exercise in the use of databases and electronic resources, but that topic would need an entirely different webpage to fully explore. My wife works at the Briscoe Library at the University of Texas Health Science Center at San Antonio. She is Head of Technical Services and Head Cataloger, which means that she knows a great deal more of the intricacies of electronic resources than I do, but she works behind the scenes most of the time while I shovel away in the trenches of public service. You would think that our mutual jobs would produce a great deal of fodder for discussion about libraries; fortunately, we have other things to discuss besides Cutter numbers, dwindling collections and unruly students. Specifically dogs, the San Antonio Spurs, and whether or not I will ever get to work hammering up the side of the fence that I promised to do long ago.

I began writing when I was twelve years old, and have continued to do so my entire life.

My brother, John, also began writing at that time, and has published fiction in various places. We’ve actually collaborated on many short stories over the years, and continue to do so. We've recently produce an excellent volume of short stories titled Binary Tales. Please see the section on Genre Fiction for further information on this wonderful collaborative project.

I actually have two brothers and a sister. Alexandra, or ‘San’ to us siblings, is the eldest child and was actually the inspiration for my first experiments in writing. As a teenager of accelerated intellectual capacity, she began writing gothic tales about her Barbie dolls. I, in turn, began writing stories about flying saucers and the occult, leading on to science fiction, fantasy and other youthful fascinations. My brother, John, also began writing about such things, as the example was firmly set. I believe she would have accomplished a great deal if she had kept producing gothic tales, but her interest waned and only my brother and I continued writing. My younger brother, Carl, could only look on as a toddler and wonder what all the nonsense was about. Carl never tried writing, but later became adept at computers, video games and all things Hentai. We are, above all, a creative lot.

My parents were divorced when I was four years old. This began an odyssey of life that I cannot begin to elaborate upon here; despite frequent poverty, ever-changing addresses and my mother’s sudden development of chronic Rheumatoid arthritis when we were young, my mother managed to see us all to adulthood with a minimum of physical and psychic damage. She served as the inspiration to help us prosper intellectually in an environment that must have destroyed or heavily compromised countless lives. We were all voracious readers, and she fully supported that habit. I believe it was that quality – an undying love of the written word – that kept us from disintegrating completely, and, in fact, gave us the intellectual tools to rise from suffocating poverty to academic achievement and personal success. This is an old story in American society, but it is true for a great many people. It was true for my family. I personally witnessed the sorrow that such conditions brought to others who could not find an imaginative escape from similar circumstances.

This is a thematic current that runs through my fiction: what happens when the human spirit confronts untenable circumstances? The answer, of course, is that life happens.

I graduated from Incarnate Word College – now the University of the Incarnate Word – in 1988 with a BA in English Literature. From there I studied for a year at the University of Texas at San Antonio – also known as UTSA – and attended two gratifying poetry workshops with the poet and professor, Dr. Wendy Barker. Please see the section on Poetry for further details about my studies and the work they produced. In 1990 I realized that my academic career was over – instinctually I knew that in order to achieve what I dreamed of achieving in my writing I would have to confront life and experience it on a level that was unavailable in academia. I traveled a great deal throughout the United States, observing the places and people, committing to memory the nuances of a country surprisingly vast and differentiated. I’ve been to so many cities: Phoenix, Albuquerque, Flagstaff, Kingman, Las Vegas, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Oakland, New York City, Gulfport, Memphis, and too many others to name. I wanted to memorize America in a way that would allow me to write authentically about it, about her cities, towns and people. I wanted my literary voice to resonate with the perceptions granted me by my examination of these places, the landscape, the architecture, the terrain, and the voices speaking truthfully about the people who thrived in these places.

During this time I also began studying the trends of contemporary American fiction. I clarified my observations and determined the best course of action for my own writing. Up until that time, despite a serious consideration to poetry, I had been writing genre fiction. While I enjoyed the writing of these stories, I knew that I wanted to accomplish something greater and deeper in my writing. So I only wrote genre fiction occasionally while pursuing a new mainstream style that would incorporate my observations and notations. Many of the stories in Ghosts of the American Dream were written during this period. Writing meaningful short stories naturally led to the desire to write a meaningful novel – and so I spent the next few years writing that novel. I wanted to produce a work that not only possessed great characters but also painted a wide cultural stroke across a large section of the United States.

I currently belong to the Texas Writers' League (the only writing organization to which I belong). Their homepage can be found at http://www.writersleague.org.

I love to read and write. I have done so for most of my life; I have worked conscientiously to refine my art and craft, and will continue to do so until I close the final door.

In my life I have been a student, a poet, a writer, a streetball junkie, a traveler, a husband, a responsible pet-owner and 1960s devotee.

And now I am also in search of the American literary masterpiece, from my own hands or from the hands of someone who shares my philosophy of writing. I have been told that Hemingway, Fitzgerald and Steinbeck are archaic models that need not be replicated in American letters, but I believe that the vocal majority – no matter how loudly they proclaim their allegiance to mediocrity – should not stand in the way of meaningful art.

Personal History, Philosophy & Miscellaneous FAQs

Q: How do you pronounce your last name?

A: The simplest phonetic expression is: when-THEY-oh. It is a Hispanic surname whose origins would seem to be Italian (at least, from what I’ve heard from various sources). My mother, who is of Polish ancestry, has a maiden name the pronunciation of which may only be deciphered by Germanic scholars.

Q: Who are your literary heroes?

A: I despise the word ‘heroes’ as it pertains to people whose life or work that you admire or advocate. I believe in the strictest scientific understanding of the equality of people, and because I do I also believe that labels like ‘hero’ denote an obeisance to being that should be reserved for deistic figures and characters from the poetry of Homer. There are, however, many people whose work and accomplishments in the human arena I sincerely admire and respect. The literary personalities that fall into this category include Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Faulkner, Steinbeck, Ellison, Welty, and Joyce, among others. Among literary figures my greatest respect must be given to William Shakespeare. I don’t believe that his work has ever been surpassed. And, for the record, I am a Stratfordian.

Q: Are you an Elitist?

A: Elitism, like many forms of intellectual self-defense, is simply a restatement of preference. When I was at Incarnate Word I very much enjoyed participating in intellectual conversations, discussing the virtues of literature and art, reconciling the role of human consciousness in appraising the universe – but it was an activity that I enjoyed, and didn’t rely upon as a means of defending my self-esteem. When I was labeled an elitist I rebelled against the title and tried to be more personable, more concerned with the everyday foibles of life. This proved to be an astoundingly boring exercise, as most foibles are isolated qualities and fail to build into any appreciable dramatic structure. So I simply shut up and engaged in stimulating discussions as they came. As I’ve grown older, however, I’ve discovered that, between the two, only the subject matter is different – the manner of appraisal is pretty much the same, and may or may not produce a similar revelatory effect. Of course, I have no idea what that now makes me. And I’m not soliciting conjecture on the matter.

Q: Are you cynical?

A: Absolutely. But in a magnificently entertaining way.

Q: Let me rephrase the previous question – are you cynical about life?

A: Absolutely not. However, my normally pleasant demeanor and genuine love for all things in creation seem to be repeatedly misinterpreted as profound cynicism. Go figure.

Q: Are you really a third-grade dropout?

A: As a matter of record. When I was fairly young my mother’s illness, combined with poverty and very hard circumstances, created an environment so hazardous to our continuation as a family that we children had to keep things going on a fairly independent basis until our mother could adjust to her unending battle with chronic arthritis. This is called ‘caring for your own’ when no one else seems particularly interested in the job. As a result of missing so much of a general education I felt that I had to work fairly hard to acquire enough of a knowledge base to compete with my peers. As it happened, unceasing reading and writing was enough of a deterrent to ignorance that I had little to worry about by the time that I entered college. I wish I could say that I was naturally gifted, but the sheer number of books that I read (out of a sheer love for reading) was my unforeseen savior.

Q: Do you consider yourself gifted?

A: Hardly. I’m very bright, which I believe most human beings to be; the key to appearing impressively intelligent is the constant application of an ordinary intellect. One progressive examination bleeds into another, and pretty soon people begin to think of you as a bloody genius (pardon the pun). The problem with most people is that they keep applying their intellect to the same things, the same problems, the same desires, and the same considerations. This is the first step in achieving high mediocrity. On the other hand, constantly examining arcane subject matter for the sake of appearing brilliant is not enough of a gesture, either – meaningful insight should be the objective of anyone utilizing his or her intellectual faculty in the examination of any subject matter. The pursuit of meaningful insight is the only form of genius that matters.

Q: How do you reconcile that philosophy with artistic expression? Certainly not all forms of artistic expression – visual, auditory, or kinesthetic – have to lead to some meaningful insight?

A: Aristotle thought that they should. Being that he is dead and can’t revise his Poetics, I will say that what human beings do when appraising art (or experiencing art, or however you wish to phrase it) is to try to find some human association with it, no matter how abstract it seems. This can take place through seemingly unrelated sensual acuity - a Freudian or Jungian reaction, if you will – which strikes a chord in the human consciousness, whether or not a reasonable description of the effect can be provided. Perhaps, too, that is why some people have an instantaneous revulsion for some artistic expressions – their conscious or subconscious reactions to the experience fill them with a negative esthetic revelation. However, to be perfectly honest, I believe that when an artist has a masterful control over his medium that the artistic effect is almost always more inclusive of the human experience. I believe that this is nowhere else more important than in the written arts.

Q: What do you think of Political Correctness?

A: Besides writer’s block, being politically correct is the biggest pain for writers. Does a language that has so very few gender distinctions (as opposed to other Romance languages) really need to winnow out the ones that remain? Why is it objectionable to differentiate between ‘actor’ and ‘actress’? Now everyone is an ‘actor’. No, an actor is a man who acts. An actress is a woman who acts. Why is that so deadly offensive? Now a writer has to write: ‘the actor – who was, by the way, a woman - was standing & etc.,’ instead of simply ‘the actress was standing & etc.’ How can anyone compare a racial epithet to a distinction of gender? Political correctness paints everything with the same brush, and homogeneity is something I abhor. As someone who has lived through a great deal of social reconstruction, I find it insulting to use the same arguments that were used in the Civil Rights movement to validate someone’s meaningless quirks. I believe in many cases that social sensitivity is being applied in the wrong places, and that this has the result of diluting the effect of such sensitivity when it is thoughtfully applied. It wasn’t too many years ago that people were celebrating diversity. Now it’s homogeneity. Well, which one is it supposed to be? And you have the nerve to ask me if I’m cynical.

Q: Have you ever had writer’s block?

A: Please, don’t get me started on writer’s block. Yes, I’ve suffered writer’s block from time to time, anguished over it, and have written countless unreleased essays concerning its nature, causes and potential cures. I considered placing a separate section about writer’s block on this site. However, all of my studies and analyses (as well as the reading of countless books and articles on the subject) have led me to a simple conclusion: writer’s block, as it is experienced in most cases, is nothing but performance anxiety. It is a form of anxiety covertly supported by an individual’s self-esteem issues and available self-confidence. The cure for this sort of thing is to make certain that you have something specifically to write about and that you find a way to subdue your issues of self-esteem and self-confidence. The first part of this solution is the easy part – the second part is one that may take years and years of therapy. The greatest advice I can give you is to not take the concept of writing too seriously. I know that sounds contradictory, since I am including sections on this site about writing a literary masterpiece and the concept of poetic realism in fiction, but these theoretical frameworks are only playful constructs, no matter how esoteric they may seem. After all, a person’s life doesn’t depend on his or her writing – a person’s writing depends on his or her life. When writers adequately accept this philosophy into their daily rituals of expression then the writing becomes far less formidable. Above all, never use ‘writer’s block’ as an excuse for being just flat-out lazy. For more thoughts on this subject, please see my essay on writer's block in Reflections on Writing.

Q: You mentioned that you were a ‘streetball junkie’. What is that and did you ever seek treatment for this addiction?

A: A streetball junkie is someone who is obsessed with playing basketball in pick-up games and schoolyards, or wherever someone has set up a hoop, in good and bad neighborhoods, in sun and rain. I kept up my crusade for many years when I was in my twenties, and met all kinds of people that I wouldn’t have ordinarily. I made a great many friends over the years, though streetball friends seem to go the way of dust in the wind. I have a thousand stories from my days as a streetball fanatic, and may one day very well use them in literary work. In college I was also a gym rat, shooting baskets every moment that I wasn’t working in the library, attending classes or reading paperbacks (as opposed to the texts that I was supposed to be reading). As an English major, I also signed up for every Physical Education course that I could slide past my advisor.

Q: What do you consider a writer’s most valuable quality?

A: Ernest Hemingway said that it was a shockproof shit-detector. By this exotic phrasing I believe that he meant that a writer must to be able to discern the genuine, the honest, and the truthful from the disingenuous, the contrived, and the illogical. If he or she is able to do so then that person’s work will reflect the genuine, the honest, and the truthful perceptions of human life that inspired it. And that is much, much, much easier said than done.

Q: Finally, why are you focusing on the concept of the American literary masterpiece?

A: Many of the reasons for my obsession with this concept are delineated in my expurgated introduction to Ghosts of the American Dream, In Pursuit of a Genuine American Fiction. In addition, as a student of American literature, I have witnessed a steady decline of appreciable literary work over the years that has led to the glorification of inferior fiction (whether derivative genre fiction or literary whining disguised as disciplined dramatic expression). I understand that the age of the novel as an artistic instrument is supposed to be dead, but I refuse to concede the point simply because of the pontificating of apologists for mediocre efforts. In a time in American history when a clear and objective definition of what it means to be an American is desperately needed, I think that it is the artist’s responsibility to rise to the occasion and render representative work. Much of what passes for literary analysis – in the form of popular fiction – is nothing more than a repeating of shallow conventions, from the music industry to the film industry to the television industry to the publishing industry, and which fails to capture the depth of the human heart and mind. Mediocrity breeds mediocrity, and if we, as a nation and society, continue to settle for mediocrity in our art then we are destined to become a nation of intellectually limited drones.

Here is a quote from Albert Einstein that offers us a brilliant encouragement:

“Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds.”

I hope that everyone reading this will decide to let the vastness of their own spirits seek a greater depth of esthetic perception and understanding.