Justin, the elusive author behind Dial M for Moron, is a man of many hats—and none of them fit quite right. At the tender age of 12, he strutted his stuff in a Street Fighter II video game tournament in Tokyo, making it all the way to the quarterfinals before Chun-Li handed him a masterclass in humility.

Years later, from his mom’s basement during the MySpace era, Justin recorded and self-released an indie album that somehow made it on the radio. This involved a memorable collaboration with a rapper where they insisted they’d birthed the not-so-groundbreaking genre of lo-fi indy rap.

When not writing, Justin spent over three decades proving that even a lifetime of surfing can’t save you from being bad at it—terrible, in fact. His adventures include getting up close and personal with 12-foot waves in Bali, a feat best described as “terrifying” and “painful.”

The author wrote much of Dial M for Moron from an island in Asia, fueled by coconuts, brandy, existential dread, and an AI co-writer who took longer to cooperate than to invent the light bulb. When not pondering the absurdities of artificial intelligence, Justin is likely grilling lamb chops, taking Poppy, his English bulldog, for leisurely strolls, or unwinding with a good book and a bubble bath.