Clint Forgy was hatched at a very young age and raised in Iowa, walking 2.4 miles uphill both ways to school. I can prove it. I mean, he can prove it. As a stowaway aboard an Amish buggy, he escaped to Colorado before eventually landing in Missouri aboard the good ship Lollipop.
Forgy hates long walks on a short pier, rainy days, and coconut. He loves bourbon with an air chaser, women in stiletto heels, and the smell of a new grandchild’s scalp. And puppies.
After centuries of mundane employment as a canine hair shortener, future organ donor, lion tamer, computer wrangler, and tractor-trailer pilot, Forgy picked up his trusty laptop, set it down to refill his coffee mug, and picked it up again to begin writing.
He’s always been like that.