The Very Long, Very Strange Life of Isaac Dahl

by Bart Yates

This country is terribly cruel to people who don’t fit in neat little boxes.”

No, I wasn’t stoned when I came up with the idea for this book. Truly. Regardless of how plausible it might sound, I was absolutely NOT sitting on my couch in sweatpants and a wine-stained hoodie, smoking a joint and shoving fried cheese balls into my mouth while mumbling things to my cat like: Hey, how about I start my next book in 1926, when the main dude is just eight years old, then jump eight years in the future for the second chapter, then just keep on jumping eight years for every chapter after that until he’s old as hell, and along the way I’ll toss his butt in an avalanche, a dust storm, a naval battle, a movie about Cinderella, and other random crap like that? Want a cheese ball? These freakin’ things are awesome! I only wish my creative process worked like that.