G B Ralph writes stories with plenty of humour, a dash of tragedy, and to somehow involve food, booze, and gays – three of his favourite things.He grew up in rural Aotearoa New Zealand and recently returned after a few years in London. While there, he got most of my writing done on the train to and from his day job, and sometimes at home when not distracted by his partner, flatmates, or the neighbours’ cats (zero respect for boundaries). And these days he squeezes the writing in whenever he can.His first foray into literature recounted the delights and repercussions of eating too much fruit in only twenty syllables. It was… charmingly disgusting. His more recent work is a little longer, and marginally more sophisticated. He’s the author of countless pieces of fiction at varying stages of incompleteness and has finally decided to get his act together and release something.