John Simons spun wild stories and considered himself a writer from childhood, even when the world knew him only as a teacher, retailer, business consultant, or founder of a comic convention. Right now he is likely learning a language, thinking about fish or dinosaurs, moaning about how his garden doesn’t produce tomatoes, serving the canines who run the house, or fighting off his kids, who think his love of martial arts is a reason to attack him whenever he is not expecting it. It probably is.