Most forums have a post that serves as an entry point for new members, a place for them to introduce themselves. At Crimespace, that post is The Bar.

As a way of starting it off, I'll introduce myself.

My name is Daniel and my favourite colour is black. Half Romanian, half Croatian, I was born and bred in Australia, the country I've spent most of my life in. Got a degree in Computer Science and by day I'm a programmer in the shady field of gaming. Yes, I program poker machines. This does not mean I carry around a Bat-utility belt and rush over to clubs when people don't get paid. It's an office job, plain and simple. I stare at computer screens all day.

By night, and during my lunch hour, I write. Mostly crime, but I'm not afraid to venture outside the genre if the story I want to tell goes that way. Even then I'd say my fiction straddles the border between crime and other genres. I've only been writing solidly for about the last three years, the first two of which were spent on a comedic P.I. novel set in Sydney. Like many writers, that novel was my journeyman piece, in that it taught me how to write a novel (which is not to say I've stopped learning). Also like many writers, I don't think I want it to ever see the light of day.

I've since moved on to a novel that if I had to describe in one sentence, would sound something like this: "An unwilling hitman becomes part of a crime syndicate that reaches back to turn-of-the-century Sydney." Part crime thriller, part historical dream sequence, with elements of the supernatural. I'm about two thirds of the way through the first draft and I'm getting a big kick out of writing something more serious.

A few short stories of mine are floating around the net and I have a list of those on my profile page. In the interest of brevity, I'll leave it at that.

Now. Who wants a drink?

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Agreed, a great idea.
Me three! I love the thought of a Bridget Hammer type.
A hitwoman with boyfriend problems; a cross between Bridget Jones and Mike Hammer? Nikki, that two-liner could get you pitch time at half-a-dozen Hollywood studios. IMHO, write what's inside, not what someone tells you.
All I can say is, if it's anything like your story for the summer Spinetingler, it is sooooo going to rock. I'm interested in anything you produce.
Right on Nikki. You've got a sure-fire winner there.
erm, hi. I think i started a disscussion by accident, in the main forum bit, sorry about that. My comp skills arnt too good on account that im ditzy. Im Bex, and i love to read crime fiction, but i have tryed my hand at writing it. I am so excited to have forund this site, it will be great to meet some like minded folk here. I really hope this goes in the right bit, if not will someone please slap my head a few times, spin me around and point me in the right direction? Cheers. XXX BEX XXX
I'll join you in the subdivision-building, Nikki. We have a small construction firm and we pour concrete. That's it, concrete. Everywhere. Blink and your forest is going to be paving. (Actually, we pretty much only pour it in chemical plants to facilitate their destruction of the world. We're selective environmental aggressors.)
I'm Scott. And I wish I could find that clever "process" essay I wrote back in my college creative writing program. It was all the things I'm afraid I won't be right here, right now: funny, smart, sarcastic, likeable-arrogant. Granted, I'm sure there was an ample sidecar of self-doubt, plus a lot of superfluous vocabulary and hyphenated modifiers, just to let on how truly hep I am. But let's not do that this once...

I'm 40. I live in Chicago. I majored in creative writing in college, then started taking jobs. Some of 'em have actually been pretty cool jobs. Still, what I keep doing on lunch hours, at 37,000 feet, and after my wife goes to the writing.

My backpack is naked without a half-empty (half-full?) comp book, a few novels (one "genre," for pleasure; one "literary," for looks), a dog-eared paperback about meditation, and some "how to" writing book that, if I can just get through, will unlock the key to actually completing my elusive (read: "shitty") first novel. (Spenser meets Bolitar, more or less. Okay, less.)

I have two sons, 4 and 2. The youngest is at the dentist right now, having a black front tooth plucked out. (Hit head, ducked down and smashed mouth, geysered blood all over daddy and the pool deck.) The eldest is at school, dreaming of coming home to play the Wii.

Wife: Eileen. Capable of carrying two 45 lb. bags at the same time, one over each shoulder. Cries when she stubs her toe or gets a splinter, but isn't afraid to die.

Had two rescued Airedales for a decade. Both burned out before they could fade away. Miss 'em every day.

Rode bike across Alaska. Sing in the shower. Tivo Oprah and the UFC.

Just want to be loved.

The "part historical dream sequence" immediately makes me perk up. Heck the
whole description does. Looking forward to this one, without doubt.

My background? Too much of everything. Cherokee, Scottish, English, Whatever.
Just a mixed up mess.

A Pyramid for me--fell in love with them at LCC. On tap, preferably... A good
reason to return to Seattle as I can only find it in bottles here.

My favorite color? RED! Published once with Silver Dagger, so basically I am
starting over. What am I writing? Darker, definitely, but just starting to dig in.
I'm getting lots of inspiration just by being back amongst other mystery types,
however, so hopefully will put this next week--spring break, kids gone--to good
Thanks for the kind words, Carolyn. It's good to get feedback like this. Hopefully I won't disappoint once it's finished.
I'm old. Maybe not as old as Jack, but close.
I'm a mongrel with a French name and yes, it is my real name

Favorite color? What is this, Tiger Beat?

I've always been a writer, even when I wasn't writing.

I wrote my first novel in '93. I sold it on '04. I've ghosted novels for semi-celebrities, but there's only one I can talk about.

I served in Central America when most of my friends were in Vietnam. When I returned home it took two years for me to find my sense of humor.

I play blues harp and guitar and will until I die because, in the words of Buddy Guy, blues performers don't get good until they're sixty.

I have three years to go.

Now where the hell's that V&T? I'm parched.
Wouldn't call myself a player, but I can strum along nicely as a rhythm section for you, long as you stick to the blues.


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