I take this to be a conversation with you the reader rather than the blurb on a book cover so it is the only time I will address you the reader as myself.  I will not use the third person to describe myself but will talk directly to you.
Who am I?  Interesting question; philosophers and theologians have tried to answer.  Anything I say will either be derivative or a cliche.  The Hindus talk about the atman and the Atman, Buddhists aim for sunyata, or 'emptiness' for the universe is 'sunyavada' (devoid of meaning) and all our perceptions are maya (illusion).  So I am no-one, an empty page. 
Modernist literary critics say knowledge of the author's life is unimportant - the text is the thing.  Are we made up of our memories, what we have achieved or who we have loved?  It is enough to say I love animals, particularly horses and dogs,  and my family.  I have been a student, a teacher, an explorer and worked for the Government.  Dropped out for a time to hang around musicians, poets, artists and other trouble makers of that (creative) ilk.  Dropped back in again because of family responsibilities. 
I have had a few poems published and, when young, wrote several skits/sketches that were put on stage but I have not completed a novel yet.  Self doubt sets in during editing and I abandon the work.  I write historical fiction, fantasy, short stories about life, politics and society and may attempt some sci fi sometime and of course poetry.  I find if I am writing prose the muse of poetry vanishes and vice versa; you can love two women at one time but they become jealous of each other and leave you bereft.
 To be a writer you need empathy and friendship but you are always the watcher in the shadows, the outsider, observing, noting and using everything that happens but you never escape from Foucault's grilles...