William J. Archer
I've certainly been accused of being... let's say... unhinged by almost everyone I've spent more than three days with. As far as writing goes, I tend to have a natural affinity for dark humour, thought-provoking short stories, wild, free-form stream-of-consciousness adventures, and gonzo-ish or very opinionated editorial pieces.
My ruthless honesty can sometimes cut deep, but I never seem to fall short as an entertainer/communicator. The few friends I do have say they value my straightforwardness very highly.
In the fairly short time I've been on this planet, I've managed to accrue quite the varied list of experiences. And I'm not done yet.
I've been a coastal logger, flown all over BC and Alberta, Canada, in helicopters, worked in oil and gas for 15+ years, and framed well over one-hundred houses. Much of the time, these undertakings were experienced during brutal winters in remote areas of the frozen north.
I'm not at all ashamed to admit that I'm a bit of an adrenaline junky, and I've been bungee-jumping, skydiving, white-water rafting, and broken my bones dirt-biking. I've lived in the Costa Rican jungle, driven the entirety of Albania, climbed more mountains than I can count, and sailed up and down the Pacific coast of Canada.
I also enjoy archery, motorsports, hockey and football (soccer), cooking, music, and tattooing myself. Currently, I'm writing all the time and traveling around the world with my lovely wife.
The services listed below are the types of writing I enjoy the most. The topics themselves are quite vast, but really, if you have a look around this site, it should be fairly apparent what sorts of genres I like. That being what it is, I do enjoy a good challenge and am open to delving into places I've never explored before. Please feel free to plunge into the blog and short stories sections for more ideas as to what types of madness I naturally indulge in. Enjoy!
Of all the fascinating things I've experienced in my long life, I suppose I could’ve chosen to share any number of entertaining tales. But I’ve decided to share this one because it affected me the most.
Under the gun to produce a sequel to ‘Lucky Lizard’, and I've got nothing. Who the hell gets writer’s-block trying to write a sequel to a thirty-page children’s book with no more than fifty words per page?
Oats for Lucifer
His mother had died before he was old enough to form much of a reliable memory of her. She was kicked in the head by a horse she spooked early one winter morning while bringing it oats.
What Do They KNow?
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