About the Author

A footnote from the Backroom that got promoted to a full article

You can blame my mother for this.

She handed me the Red Box when I was far too young to understand THAC0, let alone explain it to anyone else. I’ve been running games ever since—starting with Sunday afternoons at the family dining table, a stack of battered rulebooks, and a band of loyal friends who were entirely too happy to murder goblins in creatively unsanctioned ways.

From there, it spiralled. (As these things do.)

In my teens, I was an unholy mix of battle re-enactments, cider, skittles (the game, not the sweets), and far too much Guns N' Roses. Somewhere along the line I tripped over a goth club, picked up a few too many Sisters of Mercy albums, discovered EBM, wandered back out humming Ozric Tentacles, and eventually emerged as some weird amalgamation of goth/metal/hippy/D&D’er/anime-watcher with no clearly defined genre tag.

I’m still not entirely sure what I am. But I am consistent in listening to far too many anime opening themes at 2am while plotting metaphysical nonsense.

These days, I run a campaign once or twice a week, parent children, and try to remember what sleep is. Most of my free time is spent writing, prepping, or questioning my life choices with tea in hand and a Word document open. Somewhere in all that chaos, The Last Home became the place I kept returning to—not because I had time, but because I didn’t have a choice.

The world I live in? Stressful doesn’t quite cover it. Between health, life, responsibilities, and a daily schedule held together with caffeine and curses, I needed somewhere that made sense on my terms. The Inn became that place. A narrative halfway house where I could hide, create, and breathe in between real-world storms.

And the truth is, I didn’t mean for it to grow this big. I just needed to survive. Turns out, building a cross-dimensional tavern full of maids, gods, and narrative physics was cheaper than therapy.

So here we are.

Other Things That Might (or Might Not) Matter:

• I live in England.
• I still read constantly—thank my mum for that too.
• I love Pratchett, Eddings, Jordan, and Sanderson in equal and incompatible ways.
• I own more dice than socks.
• My MAL is probably unhinged.
• And yes—the One in the Backroom is my in-world persona. Yes, he says too much. No, I’m not going to stop. He’s what happens when you take a stressed-out writer, a cosmic glitch, and an emotional support filing cabinet, and tell them they’re responsible for holding the Pattern together.

If you’ve stuck with me this far—cheers.

There’s always a table waiting.
The tea’s still warm.
The Inn knows your name.

~ Moonie ~
Definitely not lost. Just filed under “narratively misaligned but stubbornly persistent.”