About
Craig Tyson Adams
Hello!
I started writing to entertain myself. I like gritty stories. Stories that could be based in reality. The stuff I like is written in a way that grabs me by the booboo and is hard to shake.
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I wrote The Lying Spiral, a gritty mystery novel that’s got more twists than a spiral staircase piled high with coffee-stained case files. I live for crafting complex characters and heart-pounding suspense that keep you flipping pages until the very last reveal.
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But I don’t just stick to novels. Over on Medium, I’m slinging hot takes like a caffeinated carnival barker, diving headfirst into everything from the electric rush of sports to the messy layers of social issues and cultural vibes. Love letter to life’s little moments, brewed with passion and a knack for making the ordinary feel epic.
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On my Substack, Craig’s Mind Express, I squeeze thoughts out of my brain. I arrange them so my readers can ride along with my real reflections and commentary.
My articles are on You Tube with my voice over. Give it a listen. Let me entertain you!
Author Bio
My humble beginnings began with my parents. My father was an unidentified astronaut and my mother was Jacqueline Onassis.
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After the scandal, I was put up for adoption. I found my way to a small town in Southern California called Mira Loma.
There I was raised with four other children. Since I was nine years younger than the one before me, they were the ones that told me I was adopted. The story has it that I was discovered on the front porch in a picnic basket.
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The nice lady that denied the story and claimed that indeed she was my mother did the best she could. The man that she said was indeed my father didn’t say much besides that he was hungry. He also had a prodigious ability to rent beer.
I write every day, sometimes twice. I started this thing called writing when sitting on a bench looking out over Santa Monica bay one evening.
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Pondering my next move, a lobster with the face of Jayne Mansfield popped out of the water. “Hey, why are you sitting here when the whole world is a-spinning on? Get started doing what comes naturally!” And then it plopped back under the surface.
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Sitting there perplexed and in shock, it occurred to me to write down what had happened. Then it hit me like a thunderbolt!
Should I be writing?
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There was a noise behind me. Standing there hunched over was one of our less fortunate. As I was being repulsed by this person’s overbearing fragrance, we locked eyes.
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A slight wry smile started to crease the dirt and crust-laden cheeks and the head nodded yes as he/she farted.
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It was a sign! Writing it shall be!