Adam M. B. Bond

Born amidst the hills of North Western Pennsylvania, Adam Bond, is something of an outcast within his own "country". A voracious reader, especially of Eighteenth Century verse and prose, he started writing at the age of eleven, mostly short stories and a few plays.

He commenced work on a novel in the terse, austere style of Hemingway at fifteen, but burnt it after two hundred pages as he realized he was not as fond of Hemingway's style as he once had been.

He penciled out a second novel in 2006 that was part science fiction, part historical drama, and part ecclesiastical intrigue. It revolved around the character of an abbot living in a Victorian England much changed by an alternative history that he developed meticulously. It is presently shelved as he realized he does not really like writing creative prose, excepting short stories. Maybe someday.

From 2006 to 2008 he started writing short poems and dabbling in the arts of metre, rhyme, and scansion. In the latter part of 2008 and 2009 he decided to get down and dirty with verse and produced over a dozen lengthy pieces in his trademark style harkening back to 18th and 19th Centuries.

He is going to be attending Hobart & William Smith Colleges in the Fall of 2010 after a two year sabbatical, majoring in English Language and Letters, with a concentration on 18th Century Verse and Prose.

In the not too distant past he met a beautiful woman whom he showers with affection. They intend to marry and to have children within the next decade, the former being a much closer reality than the latter. He is moving to the Philadelphia Area after ages being a lone voice in the Wilderness of Peoria.

He suffers from a crippled right leg and can be seen limping about with a cane. Undaunted he continues to dress in an outmodish fashion and is often mistaken for a New England Patrician of Preparatory School cut. He unwittingly affects a cultivated accent which has been brought to his attention on recent occasion, much to his amusement.

He is fond of satire and wordplay, enjoys laughing at himself and other people, believes the whole damned race no better than circus beasts and not infrequently can be found smoking a cigarette, knocking back a gin and tonic, pedantically monologuing the masses, and scribbling in a Moleskine notebook on the nearest bit of green turf adorned with flora and fauna and a nice bench.