John Sargent
Biographical info:
real name:
John Sargent
net.name:
[what's a net.name?]
nicknames:
John Sargent
birthdate:
November 10, 1966
email:
sarge@dead.mailbox
shoe size:
13
hobbies:
Skeet shooting
hometown:
Neely, NC
currently living in:
Durham, NC
job/career:
Writing
Writing:
To you, what is writing?
That thing I do to get the ideas out of my head.
What started you into writing?
A school project.
How long have you been writing?
15 years.
Is writing a passion, and what do you get from it?
It is a passion; personally, I get paid for it.
What's your biggest inspiration?
Reading some short stories in "Isaac Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine" and thinking, "Well, hell, even *I* could write better than that!"
Reading works from others:
favorite style:
Novels--there's enough room for the author to develop large ideas.
favorite genre:
Science Fiction; it's what I grew up reading.
favorite authors:
Lois McMaster Bujold, Jack Finney, T.R. Pearson
recommended works:
In order: Barrayar, Time and Again, A Short History of a Small Place
And Personally...
At the tender age of seven, John Sargent was accidentally lost by his parents while visiting China. John had the good fortune to stumble into a friendly tribe of pandas. The tribe unofficially adopted him and reared him for the next nine years. As pandas spend most of their time eating and John only needed three squares a day, he had plenty of time to develop outside interests.
One day a panda gave him a copy of Ringworld by Larry Niven which the panda had attempted to eat before realizing that its bamboo content was somewhat low for its dietary needs. That was the end; it was only a matter of time before John decided he could spend time writing as well as reading.
The years between seventeen and twenty-five are a blur, most likely due to an overweening fondness for Robitussin cough syrup. When he descended from his alcoholic haze he performed many odd jobs. These days, when not writing, he hires himself out to zoologists as a panda surrogate.
Works by John Sargent at The Farm:
Pulse
|
Loves Labour Lost |
6.19.97 |
|
No words are spared; the anger, the callous, the chasm.
|
|
On Trial |
6.19.97 |
|
Constant torture for a student of the Art, foisted upon himself...
|
|
