Michael Thedieck grew up with a silver spoon—not in his mouth—clenched for digging in his backyard. He’s been digging—maybe scratching—at something ever since. He fell in love with the smell of wood and salt air at an early age. Sailing wooden boats when not on a construction site became his milieu, shared with writing—whether to explain, expunge, or simply to amuse himself. He makes his literary debut with Oxpecker, a tribute to a clever little fellow with whom he can relate. Michael calls Florida home and shares his space with Wonder Woman, birds, a dog, and a cantankerous PC.
