A wee bit about Fearghus
Fearghus was born in Ireland when he was very young. Raised on a diet of spuds and craic, he charged into the world with reckless abandon, hit the road after graduation and didn't look back, except to see if anyone was following him. They weren't.
He started writing short stories for fun when he was just a wee gasun of ten, and published nary a one. The first book he checked out from the library was Guards! Guards! by Terry Pratchett, and the first book he put on his shelf was The Indian in the Cupboard by Lynne Reid Banks.
At the age of fourteen he wrote a 500,000 word epic fantasy called The Phoenix Trilogy, long before he learned of silly old things like structure or pacing or character arcs. Someday he'll sift through the notes and sculpt it as it should be... some day...
Fearghus wandered, looking for one thing and finding another. He snowshoed with Canucks, made wine with Kiwis, ate sand with Aussies, and at last decided to hang his hat in the good old Rocky Mountains, where he resides to this day.
Should you venture into the woods and make the call of the wilderman, you might just get a glimpse of him... for he wanders through forests, dressed in his finest, looking pensive with a book in hand; communing with the Muse, he'll say, but really he's hunting for pinecones, funny rocks, or a good stick.