M.J. Reed lives in semi-seclusion in a bunker on the New Hampshire Seacoast. In 1995 the author was diagnosed with hysterical tinnitus, a particularly cruel form of the disease in which he does not hear the characteristic ringing, but rather the 70's pop tune Muskrat Love playing endlessly in his head. He spends his days in self-imposed isolation, watching Seinfeld reruns and preparing for the zombie apocalypse. He has no favorite color, if he were a plant he'd be a sycamore fig, and as for his politics, he doesn't like cats.
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