Once there were two men and a woman.  They all had books. Now imagine a pen filled with the ink made from elfin blood and all the words written with this pen became the infinite word of a god of some higher power. Not necessarily the word of the god, the almighty one that the whole Christian world recognizes, but a simple god who likes to play pick-up-sticks with his nephew and drink cold lemonade while pretending to be sitting on the porch of some family vacation home when really he’s in an office with his legs up on his cubicle desk listening to the phone ring off the hook while he thinks about the best way to ignore his duties for the remainder of the day without getting yelled at by another, higher powered, god in middle management.

I believe Grant Baile is the owner of such a pen. I’m not absolutely sure, but I wouldn’t doubt it. To be honest, I believe everything he’s written, including his latest book Motarville, was written with this pen. Now, I could be wrong and I probably am, but there is something convincing about a man named Grant. He seems like he’d be the type to lead a caravan of authors into a war that could end all wars or maybe just into a book talking event where a few authors (Grant Bailie, Don Memmelo, and Dedra Johnson) each read from their collected works.

Here’s an interview taken after the reading: