I grew up enjoying math and avoiding English. Unless it was required, even in college, I ran from every English/literature class I could. English had too many rules, and even more exceptions to every rule. I did however, have a natural curiosity for words and what they mean. After all, I must use words to communicate and I want to be understood.

My mind is structured mechanically, and I naturally fixed things around the house. My mom learned this when I was young and would always throw projects at me to fix. I enjoyed seeing broken things work again. In college, I majored in mathematics and minored in mechanical engineering. It was a natural choice. As my career developed into management, I realized I had a gift for understanding business, seeing a problem and leading people to the solution. I began to experiment with my leadership philosophies and studying business and the psychology of leading people. The result... success.

My friends, and former co-workers would tell me horrible story after another about the horrific bosses they had, after many years I decided to do something about it. I started writing as therapy to express my anger toward these bad managers out there in the workforce who dominate their employees. It is completely unnecessary and counter-productive.

Now, to my surprise, I've written a book. The stranger thing was, I enjoyed it. Yes, English. It may have been helpful for me to have taken more English and writing classes. I wrote a book anyway.

The funny thing is, I want to write another one.