Who Am I?

I am Edmund J. Asher, Author of The Sarimist Loyal and Gaunt, both coming soon. My genre is hard to pin, but dark adult science fantasy sounds right.

Bad Asylum is my blog.

Let’s go traditional for this next bit. Third person.

Traditional Author Bio

When not living within his mind, Edmund J. Asher resides in Texas with his beautiful wife and two children. Any time not spent writing is spent with them.

On the rare occasion that he is left with time unspent, he pursues any one of a billion different interests. He then, more often than not, wanders from his library and back to his family, missing them after only a brief hour of solitude.

Sometimes he finds opportunity to sleep, during which he is regularly awakened for any of a myriad of reasons. Some examples of such being the voices of characters who demand to be written down, dreams that demand the same, or either of two small, shadowed figures whose whispered demands are varying.

Now let’s give it a go as a “fake” biography.

Who is Edmund J. Asher?

Edmund J. Asher spent his early days with his partially developed head pressed against the inside of his too small test tube. Unfortunately, his life on an unnamed desert planet was short lived.

Considered a failed experiment by all accounts, Edmund J. Asher was flushed down a toilet.

Fortunately for him, it was a public toilet. While being a murdered test tube baby served as a major boost to his Karma Score, it left him just shy of a meaningful reincarnation.

Had the scientists in charge of his disposal used the employee restrooms, he would have been reincarnated as some sort of undiscovered tree-dwelling marsupial.

Like a koala but with telekinetic powers.

Edmund J. Asher is on record as stating, “That wouldn’t have been so bad, actually.”

Instead, he was reborn to a wealthy and influential family, owners of a castle estate in the Vrist countryside on the planet of Nyth. His younger years were spent in comfort, but he yearned for more.

He was granted the opportunity for more after disgracing his family name one night in a drunken attempt at heroics, wherein he destroyed the castle’s gate with an obscure explosive devised through careful studies of an ancient text known only as “The Anarchist’s Cookbook.”

After which he proceeded into the slave’s quarters to drunkenly inform them, “Go! The gate is down! You are free!”

To which the reply was almost unanimously returning to bed because they were handsomely paid and free to leave if they pleased, as they were servants and not slaves.

Slavery had not existed in Vrist in his lifetime but, in Edmund J. Asher’s defense, he was very drunk.

His defense did not hold up and he was exiled. It wasn’t even the worst thing he’d done. His parents were just looking for an excuse.

So he traveled the world. Having very little in the way of “useful” skills, he became a bard. Not the singing kind, mind you. The kind who tell stories.

He told tales of great adventurers, once making the mistake of passing another bard’s work as his own. By this act, he found himself faced with life-changing legal repercussion.

Edmund J. Asher had invented plagiarism and was summarily executed.

For those of you who are sticklers for historical accuracy, it was not plagiarism for which he was executed, but instead for the humorous depiction of a ruling noble within the plagiarized work.

Had he been alive for his sentencing in regards to plagiarism, he would know his punishment was a magical curse. All his words, in that life and all to come after, would fall on deaf ears. Also, a fine of seven copper pieces.

Unfortunately again, plagiarism is a huge blow to one’s Karma Score. As if being executed and cursed weren’t karma enough, Edmund J. Asher was reincarnated on a quaint, backwater planet known to nobody of any importance as Earth.

He grew up in a series of towns so small, that the most frequently held conversation in Edmund J. Asher’s lifetime went something like this.

The question, “Where are you from?”

To which he would answer, “You’ve never heard of it.”

Much like one would say if they were an Earthling visiting civilized planets.

But Edmund J. Asher buckled down, making repeat attempts at living a normal Earth life, hard at work on improving his Karma Score for the next go around.

His curse, unbeknownst to him, made finding a place in the world impossible. And when fitting in proved impossible, Edmund J. Asher shouted to the sky, “Fuck it!”

A phrase not invented by him, though he is credited by many for popularizing its use on Nyth in his life prior. On Earth, it was simply a commonplace expression for which he was considered a commonplace person for using.

So Edmund J. Asher went back to his old ways, his only original invention: Plagiarism.

Which none would contest had first been invented on Nyth, by him, before it was ever a thought in an Earthling’s empty head. Despite the discrepancy between the two planets’ timelines, which make any attempt at a definitive answer impossible.

But he was clever about it. Edmund J. Asher only plagiarized works of Nythian and other-worldly individuals, distributing them to an Earthen audience.

To this day, he receives stories of Nyth and the universe at large from his partner in crime; A beautiful, buxom, genius, time traveling individual, to remain unnamed for the foreseeable-by-you future. Not that I—Not that she wishes to remain unnamed. Edmund J. Asher simply believes the Earth is not yet ready for her dazzling personality.

In his next life, Edmund J. Asher will be reincarnated as a Raldip, most easily described as a sort of sentient space turnip.

Until then, he will toil away in loud, boisterous anonymity, struggling to break a curse still unknown to him.