Avi Moss is just a person. It's a bizarre world out there and its inhabitants are bizarre too. Avi tries to describe them in all their ridiculous glory: the misfits, the wannafits, the know it alls, the lost and the bolloxed. 

Avi did an MA course in writing once, but that's irrelevant considering the complete lack of publishing that ensued. 

OK, so there's a blog. If you type in gravedigginunderthemancyway.blogspot.com you'll find, amongst other writings, the first few chapters of his alter ego's novel, Gravedigging Under the Mancy Way. He's in the long, arduous process of rewriting it to turn into an e-book, which you'll also be able to buy as an actual hard copy (or should that read "soft"?) one day...

Avi loves gardening. Not the kind of gardening that involves pretty, striped lawns and floral displays, but the type where you get incredibly excited about how it's actually possible to grow tomatoes in horizontal, aluminium tubes with underwear stuffed in the ends so the soil doesn't fall out. Inspired by the kibbutz, plagued by lack of space and slugs (his kohl rabi was decimated this year), he thoroughly enjoys it when there's enough home grown veg from his tiny council house garden to make an entire meal. Oh yeah!

Avi has played trumpet, fiddle, trombone, piano and viola inconsistently throughout his life. He's played in a few shite bands, the worst of which was more like a karaoke outfit. He's also got a rough draft of the beginnings of a farcical novel involving the joys of belonging to such an outfit, and the amusement it brings. He still hasn't learnt the slide positions on the trombone and was known to blast it out of his front door on a regular basis during the "clap for carers" phenomenon.

Avi lives in a world of his own with his equally fabulous lover, their several teenagers, neurotic cats and hyperactive dog.