A Chicago-area author of short stories, novellas, songs and poems, Frank Severino also has several 6-chapter, unfinished novel starts in-queue; each as brazenly-immodest, free-thinking, frolicking, hallucinogen-fueled, and bare-chested as hippies stuck waist-deep in the mud at Woodstock. (We eagerly anticipate exposure of their second halves.)
A fan of Murakami, Kotzwinkle, and Vinge, he values humor, sarcasm, cynicism, passion, research, philosophy, extended dialogue, surrealism, and science fiction. He has written and recorded over one-hundred songs, solo, and with his band, The Longlines. Frank is a Beatles fan, plays guitar, sings, but has given up trying to learn drums ("Too hard. There's a reason Neil Peart is Neil Peart: It's because I'm not, and there can only be one on earth at the same time.") Frank used to paint a bit and once deliberately lived in a tent for six weeks. Though he has seldom lived more than twenty miles from where he was born, he is deeply convinced humanity will inevitably spread to distant star systems (and not slightly optimistic we will leave any baggage behind).