J.W. Heacock lives in East Nashville, but that side of town is too cool for an old-school nerd, so he’s scouting double-wides in the boonies.
He loves his middle name, Winston, but uses his initials because first names suggest gender, and far too many readers care far too much about that. He’s pursuing a Masters in English at Belmont University—having been an attorney (in remission), veteran of a foreign war (fully disarmed), and science teacher (and still pretends to understand quantum mechanics). If you can't tell, I’m the tallest guy on the left, I think. It’s hard to tell when you all dress the same.
JW’s career prospects have been winnowed to world-weary bar poet or fortune-cookie ghostwriter; friends rate it a toss-up.
He's done a lot of weird stuff, such as pretending to be an infant's father so he and the actual mom could get on a packed trans-Atlantic flight, to being on a prestigious game show (yep, Jeopardy!).
Then he got on another one, and another one, and . . . .
Here's a video of his most recent ordeal.
