Ladies and Gentlemen—and you, too, Fran—may I introduce William J. Briggs, my number one son. Note the “J”: he’s named after my father, not myself. I call him James, but everybody else calls him Will.
He has no idea I’m writing this post, and wouldn’t like it if he found out. So shhhhh.
He graduated from Fordham and writes websites for Cornell, has had work published here and even there, and astonishingly already has one full novel (which, if you like classic, rollicking sci fi, is a must read—only ninety-nine pennies!). He spent a year and a half in China, mostly Shanghai, and savvies the lingo (more or less); he’s had stuff in Shanghai Economist. Bonus: he isn’t crazy or reactionary or volatile like his old man. He’s extraordinarily well read. People are happy when he arrives.
He’s taken on any number of assignments, but is angling towards something lasting or larger.
If he looks like your kind of guy (and why wouldn’t he?), or you know of somebody who needs somebody, then say hey. (But don’t say I sent you.)