Mark Henry traded a career in the helping profession to scar minds with his short stories and novels. He blames his crazy ideas on premature exposure to horror movies, and/or witnessing adult cocktail parties in the ’70s. But surviving earthquakes, typhoons, and two volcanic eruptions might have had something to do with his nihilist fantasies. Despite being disaster prone, he somehow continues to live and breathe, residing in the oft maligned, yet not nearly as soggy as you’d think, Pacific Northwest, with his wife and four furry monsters that think they’re children and have a complete and utter disregard for carpet.