E.A. Johnson can often be found chasing after one of those diabolically bipedal entities we often refer to with the innocuous moniker of “Toddler” or waking in the wee hours of the morning to quiet the nightly cries of the littlest member of my family. Otherwise, he’s directing a play, correcting papers, planning lessons, climbing trees, remodeling my home in the woods, reading in the groggy wastes of the middle of the night (since those aforementioned entities don’t sleep), or drinking black dark roast (or something with a little more bite). Oh yeah, sometimes he even gets a little writing in there too. You can find some of his poetry in The Chaffey Review (Spring 2010), The Battered Suitcase (Winter 2010), and Writing Tomorrow (February 2012).
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