My name is Mark Tiedemann, Mark W. Tiedemann on the bylines (the W stands for William, in case anyone is interested) and I am a science fiction writer. I was born in 1954, in St. Louis, Missouri, a town I have grown more comfortable in over the years. Without any real plan, I’ve set a number of stories and novels in St. Louis, and the plans I have for future projects seem to be centered here. At least, those not set out in space, on other worlds, in other star systems.
Briefly, I am an only child–a condition I do not mourn–whose parents did what they could to indulge me and still give me a sense of discipline and a set of values. As far as I’m concerned, they did a good job. Nevertheless, I was not the most amenable of children and they feared for my survival, watching the path I took through life with equal parts bewilderment, pride, and alarm. At any given period, I wanted to be a musician, an artist, an actor, a photographer, a writer, an architect, and probably a few other things I’ve since forgotten. I did learn music; I was a competent enough sketch artist that for a time I thought I’d go into drawing comic books; I took one year of architecture before giving up on it; I acted in three plays and one musical and for reasons I cannot fathom just walked away from it.
Of the two things that I managed to do professionally, I became a decent photographer, though I never went into the aspect of it I dreamed about. I had wanted to be a photographer for National Geographic. Instead, I spent thirty years in custom photofinishing.
There are reasons for this.
The writing has been the thing that has gone where I wanted it to go.
To date I have published ten novels. You can find them listed here. I’ve published over fifty short stories as well. I’ve written book reviews, a few articles about various things, and I’ve been blogging the last couple of years.