Dan Tuttle

Dan TuttleDan prizes whimsy, abhors boredom, and has a middling relationship with focus. This combination led to
Rewriting Stella. That, and a damn long drive to the Serengeti.

His sonnet obsession began as a gift-giving exercise. After a rather pleasant dinner one night he decided to write up the occasion in oddly formal poetry, offer shout-outs to each participant, and email it to them. None replied. Undeterred by the deafening crickets, he then made a habit of memorializing occasions in poetry. The power of the stories we tell ourselves and all that.

At one point Dan could speak Spanish, Swahili, Chinese, Melanesian Pijin, and a bit of English. At one point he could also do calculus. But what is life but a departure from points once thought important? Though now less deft, he’s filled the void with iambic pentameter, a questionable habit of giving free advice to strangers in the park, and a day job that improves medical care for kids and seniors.

He dislikes self-help books, believing that all they contain has previously been voiced in rap. He also paid universities for undergraduate and graduate degrees, which he doesn’t recommend to others.

If you ask Dan, he'll gladly tell you about that time helped prevent an outbreak of the bubonic plague in East Africa, how he used to be able to read a Chinese newspaper, and how he's mildly synaesthetic.