I was one year old the day the atomic bomb was dropped on Nagasaki. Somehow this horrid event seemed to bend my mind toward the fanascination with the dangerous and the disasterous. I loved to walk the knife edge balanced between the normal and the abnormal. I loved to put myself in harms way. That was before I discovered I had Bipolar Disorder. Now that I am medicated and stable. I  no longer walk the sharp edge of life. I write about it. My first book investigates these roots within my mental makeup.