Greg Young: for decades, always moving, always moving on. Traveler, seeker, escape artist: from or to Texas, the Navy, Seattle, India, NYC, Korea, Honolulu, Germany. Passionately into stonework, surfing, alcohol, drumming, meditation, THC, teaching, Santeria. Fits and starts; restarts. Countless departures, arrivals. Moments of debauchery; of heartfelt appreciation; of enlightenment. Recidivist heart-breaker, breaker of his own heart. Self-saboteur. But, in the arc of Coal Fire's resolutely confessional telling, cleansed by the life-saving rigor of endeavoring to shape true narrative. To let story hold him accountable. And now, age fifty-something, so very far from where he began, composing this story (and thus himself) on the windswept coast of Wales. WALES!--of all the places he's been, could have been, could still be. At long last home, if (of course) restless still. But, for this redemptive moment, saved by his art. And by love: received; given.
Thomas Farber, author of The Face of the Deep