Clayton Diggs is an author from totally in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in the Deep Dark South. So deep and dark, it seems, that neither Clayton nor anyone he knows has any damn idea where the hell they are. Most people where Clayton lives can’t find their own town on a map, and most have never even seen a map. In Clayton Diggs’ hometown, there are more raccoons than human beings. Clayton often shoots raccoons, though not out of malice but simply because they mess with his trash. He really does hope that the raccoons he offs with a shotgun go straight to critter heaven.
Clayton Diggs currently has several books of fiction in the works, soon to be available for general consumption for Kindle, Nook, and on Audible.com. His writing, like his blogs, shows flashes of the dulled rapier wit that has made Southern humor famous throughout the land. At this moment, Clayton isn’t available for comment because he just blasted another damned raccoon and is trying to skin it. If you’re following him on Twitter, you know this to be true. If you’re savvy on skinning raccoons, please do send him a message, or tweet him on twitter. He’s getting kind of desperate, and when he’s desperate he takes to drinking, and when he takes to drinking, he often ends up in jail, and even though the sheriff is his cousin and will release him in the morning, it’s still not an experience he’s real keen on.
Clayton Diggs is a somewhat bitter divorcé, but he does hold out some hope for future romance. He loves his dogs, he loves his truck, and he loves sending boxes of horseshit to his ex-wife. He’s an optimist, if an ambiguously ironic one, whatever that means. We would ask him to clarify, but once again, there’s the raccoon issue, so we’ll have to wait.