Bart Hopkins

I’m from a small island off the coast of Texas that Glen Campbell once sang about. In my teens I surfed every day I could, but I haven’t been on a surfboard in sixteen years. I lose sleep so that I can read every night. I prefer movies to television, summer to winter, and vanilla over chocolate.

I laugh as much as possible every day.

My kids are like three lenses, and through their eyes, I’m allowed to view and rediscover life every day. My wife is my best friend. Together we’re this quirky, fun family that is the center of my little universe.

If given a BLT each day for lunch, for the next thirty years, it wouldn’t be enough. U2, The Beatles, and the Foo Fighters are my favorite bands.

When I’m not writing, I’m an Air Force weather guy, and I’ve been doing that for twenty years.

Fluke was co-authored with my pal Dave Elliott. We actually wrote most of it in 2001-2002, bouncing it back and forth via email, as we took turns deploying to Bosnia. We didn’t get around to publishing it until 2012. It’s a somewhat twisted boy-meets-girl story. Fluke gets mixed reviews—lots of love or hate without much between.

I finished the first draft of Texas Jack on New Year’s Eve, just a few hours before 2013. It’s about a boy from, well—Texas—and the role alcoholism plays in the life of his family. I always imagine Jack Nicholson as Billy Leonard, Jack’s dad in the book. If you read it, I’d love to hear whether you agree with that.

Dead Ends is a collection of three short stories—darker tales—my nod to King and Koontz and Straub. They vary from thriller to creepy.