Geoffrey A. Citron

There's nothing more intimidating than an empty box calling for one to explain themselves in a couple of paragraphs - even for a writer. I could easily procrastinate the writing of this ‘bio’ by telling myself I’m a perfectionist waiting for the perfect words to come to me, but that wouldn’t make me the genius writer I am. The perfect words come to me all the time and if they don’t I find them with little to no difficulty. The problem has never been finding the words but rather the time to sit down and put them down.

Despite having dozens of my own original stories told through a rough, raw, minimalist voice, I like to view myself as a hired-gun type of writer. No matter the subject or type of writing, I can hack it with the upmost professionalism with an almost inhuman turnaround. Bottom line I absolutely love writing and couldn’t imagine myself doing anything else with my life… because quite honestly I’m no good at anything else.

I’ve been compared to everyone from Bret Easton Ellis to Jack Kerouac (and back in my wild days mostly the great Doctor Hunter S. Thompson) but I like to consider myself the next Geoffrey A. Citron.

Whether I’m writing jokes for Real Time with Bill Maher or my pinwheel narrative about young people in Los Angeles, The Coldwater Diaries – I’m shelling out grade-A entertainment all the while giving voice to this modern blog generation that not only lacks a voice of its own but an attention span to boot.

My words are like a double dose of Adderall for a generation that’s traded in their library cards for YouTube accounts a long time ago. My aim is to entertain the masses while conning them into thinking at the same time – even if they don’t want to.

Please feel free to peruse the links below and check out some of my past work as I work tediously day in and day out producing fresh works for the present and future.

Whether you’re a fan or prospective employer I’d like to thank you for taking a moment out to read a bit about me. If you’ve managed to actually read the roughly five hundred words I’ve spewed out on this page my hats not only off to you, but you may have reinstalled my dwindling faith in mankind.