Tom Threadgill was born and raised in Memphis back when the muddy Mississippi was less riverish and more streamish. His childhood was unremarkable. (Unless you count the concussion. Oh, and the time he nearly got arrested. And the time his dad made him smoke a cigar so he wouldn’t try cigarettes.)
After giving up on a calling as a professional Pong player, Tom married his high school sweetheart and moved off to Nashville. He attended Belmont University where he majored in English (because the sky’s the limit for English majors, right?), learned to type on an IBM Selectric, and helped his wife study nursing terms with flashcards.
While there, Tom began an almost thirty-year career working for a package delivery company, spending most of the time working his way up the ranks and looking for his stapler. The job took him to Indiana, Missouri, Florida, and Texas, before he opted to retire early and move to rural west Tennessee. Think Green Acres minus the farm but with the helpful county agent.
These days Tom spends his time piddling in the yard, running an editing business, and writing novels. His hobbies include working jigsaw puzzles, trying out Dad jokes on his grown kids, woodworking, and using leftover potted meat cans from Y2K for target practice.
Tom enjoys riding his Harley in the mountains with his wife, who shuts off the microphone after the third “I am a leaf on the wind. Watch how I soar.” He’s also a rabid hockey fan, following his beloved Predators all the way through the third week of the season when they’re mathematically eliminated from the playoffs.