Graham Binns was born in Burnley, England in 1981 and is still, to all intents and purposes, alive. By day he utilises arcane magic and curious incantations to make computer systems dance to his will. By night, he writes or, more often, finds a way to not let the writing bit happen to him. He spends the rest of his time trying to convince people that this is not entirely his fault.

Graham has written one novel, with whose manuscript he is currently enganged in a standoff as he waits for it to turn in to the story he wants it to be, a wish it resolutely ignores. They have agreed to disagree on this point and the manuscript is composting in a corner of his office. He hopes that he will be able to perform a guerilla editing raid on it soon, and in the meantime is cultivating a beard and preparing to write a second novel. In his spare time he plays too many musical instruments to be able to play any of them well and is trying to cultivate a decent leg-break (the cricket kind, not the other kind).

Graham serves as The Dead Robots’ Society’s in-house technomage and script illuminator, in amongst everything else. He lives with his girlfriend of eleven years near Lancaster, England, and has a garden full of pheasants, miscellaneous rodentia and one obese hedgehog. He is apparently human.

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