I grew up in New England, with an identical twin, a younger brother, and a menagerie of animals. I did some goofy things as an adolescent: I learned all the constellations in the Western Hemisphere; I tried to set the Guinness World Record for crawling (I managed 8.5 miles, but the record was 11); I built a boat out of milk cartons, then convinced my twin and a friend to join me on the river, then waded to shore with them when it broke up in the first rapid.
I graduated from Stanford University, where I studied Communications. At the time I had a vague idea that perhaps I would become a documentary filmmaker. Instead, in 1989, I became a San Francisco firefighter.
I wrote about my thirteen and a half year career in Fighting Fire, an updated version of which came out in 2011. I’d tell you about those years, but really, you should just read the book. I will only say that being in a fire made me happy, and doing emergency medical work intrigued me. All of it made me a better person.
The most remote place I’ve been is Siberia, where I saw a Unidentified Flying Object that may or may not have been the Soviet military. The highest place I’ve been was on a mountain bike in the Bolivian Alps back when mountain bikes were scarce and 15,000 feet didn’t hurt as much as it would now. The most isolated I’ve ever felt was in a blizzard on Mt. Denali, where we had to stay in the tent and pee into a Gatorade bottle.
My novel East Wind, Rain came out in 2006. A movie based on the book is in production. It will be directed by the Japanese director Masato Harada.
In my free time, I fly an experimental plane. I read books. I go to movies. Much of this is done around San Francisco, where I live with my partner, the artist Wendy MacNaughton, three cats, an array of solar panels, and countless unread back issues of the New Yorker.