I was born in a World Cup year, a few months before Romario lifted the trophy at the Rose Bowl. A few years later, I started writing, even before I knew how (<-- see proof), and according to secondary evidence the first word I ever spoke was mango. I love nothing more than Alejandro Sanz on repeat, except maybe for Christmas, but even that is topped by a masterful whodunit.

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When I'm not writing I’m probably watching a movie, overthinking an insignificant social interaction or stuck in the immigration line at LAX.