About the Author

Photo of Nathan Jorgenson

I grew up on a small farm in rural Minnesota, part of a large and loving family. As a boy I was interested only in sports. I was the kid who knew all the statistics, situations, and heroes and villains. In spite of my passion I lacked real talent , and at my athletic zenith I was just another face in the team photo.

photo of author as a child

After college I attended the University of Minnesota School of Dentistry and when I finished school I set up practice in another small town. I have been here ever since, and I spend most of my free time with a fly rod in one hand, knee deep in one trout stream or another.

Sometimes people who practice dentistry spend years sequestering themselves into little rooms where they drill little holes in little teeth, and pretty soon they can only think little thoughts. When I felt that happening to me I decided to take a chance and convert a story that I’d written for my dad into a novel. Waiting For White Horses was the result. The Mulligan soon followed, and then A Crooked Number.

photo of author as a teen

When I write I usually sit at my fly tying bench. I rise early in the morning and write for a while before I see patients at the office. Sometimes, when I am unable to sleep, I write late into the night. I still write with a no. 2 lead pencil and a legal pad - I just can't get the creative juices flowing unless I do it that way.

A writer can only write what he or she knows about, and I have known the love, loss, failure, and laughter that Grant and Will shared in Waiting for White Horses. My father was a real cowboy, and I was raised around men like Murdo in The Mulligan.

Mickey Mantle baseball card

For what it's worth, although A Crooked Number is not about baseball, I did use the residue of one man's (maybe every man's) childhood dreams as a vehicle to carry a bigger story. Back in the day I actually did make the basket that won the big game and I scored the winning touchdown once. Neither of those moments can compare with a couple of meaningless and long forgotten homeruns in summer baseball.


"You spend your whole life gripping a baseball and then one day you find out it was the other way around."
- Jim Bouton