Welcome to my digital home. I’m so glad you’re here! My only small request is that you don’t use this information to hunt me down and murder me. Thanks in advance.

 

A Brief History of My Birth Which I Do Not Remember Firsthand

I was an accident, and I know I was an accident because during my freshman year my dad wrote me a letter and told me so. When my mom found out about all this (the letter; not the conception), she told me I was, “more of a blessing,” but I think she just meant for her—or at least I’ve never heard anyone else say it that way.

My one-notch-older sibling, Jodi, was never well. She died on Valentine’s Day while the rest of the family was at Disneyland. That’s a whole other story, but the point is my parents weren’t supposed to have any more kids, death, and heartbreak after 1979.

And then the accident or blessing happened.

My mother was a faithful Mormon woman born at a time when faithful women did as faithful women do, fulfilling her divine obligation to have a whole Christian litter. By the time I came along, she was pushing forty and no stranger to childbirth.

She knew how things should go down. She knew the doctors and nurses should only pop in here and there with an air of detachment, bordering on dismissiveness, until the damn thing was about to hit the floor.

She knew no one should walk in, spontaneously proclaim that everything was fine, then run out of the room. She knew they shouldn’t come back right away with too many other doctors and nurses, and that all those doctors and nurses shouldn’t gravely swirl around the packed room. She knew babies weren’t supposed to come out toe first all wrapped up in the chord. And, perhaps above all things, she knew that babies are supposed to live and how much it hurt when they didn’t.

While she was terrified, exhausted, and possibly on drugs, each circling doctor and nurse seemed like a grave threat. That’s when she thought of Daniel who came out alright even though he was surrounded by lions, and she knew things would be okay.

My name is Daniel Staker. I’m an accident. Thanks for coming to my site.

 

Accomplishment at a Glance

  • I Was My Mother’s Favorite Child and Was Known by My Dad

  • I Assisted a Semi-pro Magician on Stage

  • I Can Fit My Giant Fist in My Mouth

  • I’ve Matured Enough to Stop Trying to Impress People by Fitting My Giant Fist in My Mouth

  • In High School I Knew the Whole Bass Line to The Special’s cover of Concrete Jungle

 

Frequently Asked Questions

  • Are you talking about this website or life?

    If you’re talking about life, I think the point is to try to overcome whatever parts of your ego are separating you from the people that surround you—to fully accept your own humanity and that it is your role to imbue your life with meaning.

    If you’re wondering what the point of this website is, I’m not really sure. I think it’s about writing or something.

  • I went to a lot of college because I wasn’t capable of young love, and I studied law because I wasn’t brave enough to do what I really wanted to do.

    I stayed fit for 30 years then really let myself go. However, in a shocking new development, I recently lost over 30 lbs., which was enough for the CDC to consider me officially “overweight.”

    After working for over a decade at an executive level in marketing and strategy, I started living off nothing but antacids, caffeine, and expletives. The holes in my stomach lining and regular panic attacks told me it was time to hang it up.

    Now I go out to lunch, write crap, and do freelance work. (I can even write crap and do freelance work for you, if you have money.)

  • The short story “Cow.” The prose is trying too hard, which is typical of stuff I wrote in my twenties, but, overall, it seems like it’s much, much better than most stuff I write. I’m kind of surprised I wrote it.

  • Yes! I feel deep shame and regret about nearly everything I do every day! It keeps me up at night!

    More specifically, the Letters to God were probably written at one of the darkest times in my life and, being a little saner now, I’m embarrassed by how whiny I was.

    I’m really not sure why I included them. I guess maybe if anyone else is in a dark place, I was hoping to be a bit of company for misery.

  • Nope, not even close. I’m sort of rounding them all up from stray computers and notebooks. This is the tip of the iceberg.

    Also, this isn’t really a great format to share novels and longer pieces, so those are just sitting on private hard drives and in the inboxes of uninterested agents and publishers.

  • You are.

  • Yes. And if you go back and listen, I’m the only sane one in that assumption.

  • No, this is a rhetorical device. People tend to be very uninterested in me generally.

 

Stuff I Wrote

 

Resume

I’ve done professional stuff. Who says I haven’t done professional stuff?