Trevor Whitecliff
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Born at an undisclosed location in the heart of the American Midwest, Trevor discovered his love of literature at any early age, when he came upon a worn and tattered copy of To Kill A Mockingbird in his seventh grade English class. His first inclination, of course, was to turn the novel into a pornographic flipbook, which he did in record time. Eventually, some might say accidentally, he found his way to the words and nothing has been the same since. Many books followed; some by accident, some by choice, others by assignment, all equally responsible for the ruin of his life. He is a college dropout, a philanderer, a junkie-fool, a sexual fiend, a failed journalist, and a whore for love, all rolled into one neat, confused little package. For the last eight years he has wandered this country like a kite-high-freak, hoping to make sense out of the elusive purity and intense work ethic of that goddamned book; trying to decipher why, like so many others that followed, it captured his imagination in the first place. Naturally, the answers have eluded him. And yet, he knew they always would.
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