From his website:
I'm a strange person.
I have two novels to my name and they have nothing in common. One's a meticulously researched story/expos_ set in the byzantine world of public relations. The other's a multi-part science-fictiony suspense epic about super-powered people on an alternate Earth. Even I can't believe they're from the same guy, and I'm that guy.
When the initial idea for The Flight of the Silvers first roared its way into my brain, fifteen years ago, I consciously ignored it. I was determined to be a serious
writer, the kind who appealed to readers who used terms like "oeuvre"
instead of "Team Edward." So I pushed the idea to the back corner of my
psyche, between my old phone numbers and my repressed memories of
Star Wars: Episode I. And then I wrote Slick.
Make no mistake: I loved every minute I spent on that book. It was a serious
comedy, one that had much to say about truth and cynicism in a modern
media age. The story was pure me from cover to back, and I was
incredibly lucky to find a champion at Random House who appreciated the
novel for what it was.
But I still wasn't satisfied. Every time I went back to my inner muse for a new book idea, she pushed that damn Silvers
story on me. Excuse me, musey, this isn't what I asked for. I'm
looking for the literary equivalent of a three-piece suit and you're
giving me a Spider-Man costume.
I dawdled in this quandary for two
and a half years, unable to move forward or back, until fate gave me a
push in the right direction.
And by "push in the right direction," I mean cancer.
I won't burden you with the details
of that fun summer. Suffice it to say that modern medicine saved me and
the experience realigned my whole concept of "not dying," a thing I'd
been doing all my life with little fanfare until I got sick. The cancer
altered my perspective on a lot of things, not the least of which was
The Flight of the Silvers.
I finally acknowledged that the story wouldn't go away until I finally
wrote the damn thing. So I stashed away my old pretensions, cracked open
the Macbook, and started writing.
Now that it's done (at least the first book), I can tell you the funny part. The Flight of the Silvers,
for all its supernatural conceits, is the realest story I've ever
written. The characters jumped out at me in a way they never did before.
The Silvers are all confronted with their mortality on a daily basis.
They've turned not dying into a full-time job, and they face their
threats in ways that are heroic and otherwise, simple and otherwise.
Once again I was lucky to find a
publisher who appreciated the book for what it was. It may have
armageddons and flying cars and enough temporal manipulation to make
your brain bleed, but in the end,
The Flight of the Silvers is
all about the people. I've fallen in love with each and every character
in the story, even the bad guys. I can't put them down. Good thing for
me I've already sold the sequel.
But wait, this is a bio page,
so...okay, I'm Daniel Price. I was born in 1970. I live in Glendale,
California. I'm a strange person but I tell the stories I want to tell,
and that's pretty darn nice.
His website: danielprice.info