Matthew Manera was born in quite possibly the wrong century, but at least came of age in the best part of the one in which he did appear. He was incorrectly named by his parents, a fault he corrected in his thirty-ninth year. His only passion in life was music, which he pursued both academically, but also, and more importantly, as a singer/songwriter/guitarist until arthritis shouted itself into his fingers, at which point he turned to writing—poetry, essays, short and long fiction. He’s still that guy, living in Victoria, BC.