Bill Marshall

Obits and bios have always seemed lifeless to me, so I'll try to make my bio as different as my books. As of this writing (February 2019) I am 73 years old. During 73 trips around the Sun, a human being should have notched many significant experiences on his or her walking stick. Being alive necessitates such things. All of you have something to write about, a story to tell. Time changes us all.

I am currently as much like the Bill Marshall I was at 25 as a butterfly is to the caterpillar that spawned it. I suspect the same holds true for each of us. The difference in body function between then and now represents the least of those metamorphic changes. It is my psyche that has grown wings, while my body slowly moves towards its finish line. Don't get me wrong. My body has served me well, and continues to do so. It has carried me through a war in Vietnam, a seven year stint at teaching at the University of Connecticut, the college basketball capitol of the world, and has raced me through 20+ marathons. I have four adult children and lost my youngest son, David, to the scourge of heroin addiction in 2017. He was an awesome young man, as you will discover in my next book, The Horse Rode Me.

I'm leaving out all the dirt my friends have on me, even though it’s not bad dirt. The word bad is as relative as the word good. You’ll find the play on those two words throughout all of my writings. I hope you enjoy my books.