Writer’s birth is ill wind
By Gary Lee Parker
Editor in Chief
On January 15, 1971, in a small Idaho town, a young married couple rushed frantically into the local hospital’s maternity ward for but the second time in their lives, both apprehensive and excited for the adventure ahead.
The young man smiled with eager anticipation, and the young woman endured her pain stoically for the joy and miracle of birth. They were still innocent, still free and naiive. They had no idea of the terror they were about to unleash on the Earth.
Forty years later, that terror has become the worst kind of creature to ever take physical form: a writer. His name? Gary Lee Parker, a.k.a. Kyote King.
To be sure, he’s much more than a mere writer. He’s also an award-winning photographer and a talented and experienced graphic designer.
But such narrow virtues cannot hope to compensate for the gravity and depth of the abomination that is a writer. When such is born, the heavens themselves weep.
Today Mr. Parker is at large in the world, seeking full-time employment through which he may spread his insidious prose and unleash his own brand of literary mayhem on the minds of an unsuspecting public.
“I want to find a home with a company I can trust and believe in,” said the sly man in an interview last week. “I want to find a place I can be of service. I want to contribute something meaningful to my community and to the lives of my friends and neighbors. I want to add value to the company for which I work, and help them succeed as I succeed.”
While his character is automatically in doubt, due his status as writer, his sincerety seems genuine. One expert agreed that Mr. Parker probably truly believes he can become a force for good in this world through his talents and skills, and is likely entirely unaware of the darkness within.
Mr. Parker said he is looking for a company with a team environment, with a friendly staff willing to work together toward mutual goals.
“I’d like to work for someone who is willing and able to think creatively, to try new ideas, to critique with improvement in mind rather than punishment, and to balance work and life in a healthy manner,” he said. “I tend to blur the two. I am often working even when I’m playing. There are stories everywhere, in nearly everything we do, and I have a difficult time forcing a seperation. Everything’s a story.”
It’s this unique ability to see the stories behind even the smallest events that is Mr. Parker’s greatest strength. Whether he’s investigating police corruption in a small town, exploring political theory through an editorial, or enthralling readers with his account of a recent adventure on a nearby hiking trail, he always digs deep and finds gold.
“I’m a storyteller,” he said. “Whether I’m writing an article or a book, taking a photo series, or laying out pages on production day, I’m always framing the story. It’s what I love. It’s what I am.”
It’s what he is. And nothing could have prepared that young couple in no-account Idaho in early 1971 for such a fate. How could they have even guessed that adorable little bundle wrapped in fuzzy cotton, suckling at his mother’s breast, would one day become the menace we call writer?