About

If there’s one thing that defines Penman, it’s curiosity ladled with confusion. Since childhood, the author has been accused by peers, teachers, and colleagues of asking far too many questions for anyone’s comfort — questions no sane mind should ask, and certainly none should answer. From the profound (“Why is pooping a solitary activity?”) to the cosmic (“Why would aliens even want to talk to us?”), Penman’s curiosity has always been both his compass and his curse.

After a lot of experimentation, Penman has decided to focus his efforts on writing bureaucratic space opera, asserting that even at the edge of the galaxy, someone still has to file the paperwork. Fascinated by the intersection of grand interstellar empires and the mundane red tape that keeps them running, he crafts stories where a missing permit can be just as dangerous as a plasma cannon.

When not inventing fictitious government agencies or formatting galactic spreadsheets, Penman can be found reading books (mostly to find plot holes) or going for long walks (usually to escape said plot holes). He lives with his wife in the hot, sandy deserts of the Middle East, surviving on caffeine and the dream of a perfectly organized galaxy.

If for reasons most sane people can’t fathom, you want to delve deeper into the bureaucratic intricacies of the Galactic Federation, feel free to drop a note (in triplicate) to Penman at transmissions@penmanblue.com