Archer Cook

“Welcome to MY world.” This is often said in sarcasm when someone complains about their life. Not so much here. Learn more…

Who the heck is Archer Cook?

When I sat down to write this section, my mind drifted back to a desert where I spent six long months breathing in human waste and the smoke of expired batteries burning like some unholy incense. Maybe those fumes rewired something in my brain. Maybe that’s why I write the way I do. Hard to say.

What I can say is that three experiences shaped me more than anything else:

  • I married and divorced a witch. Not the broomstick kind—the demon‑worshipping, altar‑in‑the‑closet kind. I didn’t know that when I said “I do.” She revealed her devotion to the dark arts after the paperwork cleared. Ever since, I’ve lived with the lingering suspicion that I’m hexed… or maybe I just have terrible luck. Honestly, it’s a coin toss.
  • 9/11 rerouted my entire life. In the aftermath, I found myself deployed again and again to the rugged, strangely beautiful landscapes of Afghanistan. Those deployments carved deep grooves into who I am. My stories almost always carry echoes of that world—its dust, its danger, its surreal moments of humanity.
  • Hurricane Katrina kicked me out of my new life. I moved to New Orleans in April 2005, full of hope and humidity tolerance. By August, Katrina arrived and promptly evicted me from my brand‑new apartment. I lost some furniture and a sense of stability, but countless others lost far more. The storm reshaped Louisiana, and it reshaped me. You’ll see its shadow in my writing often.

A few years ago, my therapist said I should write a journal. She didn’t say that journal should be short. Next thing I know, I had written a memoir. OOPS!

I published it and sold like 20 copies. I’m going to get it edited again and try to re-publish, but I took on another project in the mean-time. Writing my son’s memoir. It’s almost finished, but I need more input from him.

While I waited on that, I had the bug…so I wrote something for fun.

So that’s me: a product of deserts, disasters, and questionable decisions. I write with a blend of dark humor, Southern grit, and the lingering suspicion that the universe is running on chaotic neutral. If you’re into stories born from strange places—literal and metaphorical—you’re in the right spot.