Tom Hirons is a semi-professional liar, although he prefers the term ‘storyteller.’ When such outrageous blaggings and verbal trickery fail to provide succour, liquor or adequate massage for his fragile ego, he has been known to resort to bespoke mask-making (a similarly duplicitous and well-suited occupation, if ever there was one) under the implausible name of Smickelgrim.
Once a master leatherworker, Hirons has now retired, but having failed to set aside sufficient funds for a reasonable pension, finds himself reduced once more to the meagre status of ‘student’, though thankfully his endeavours towards the occupation of Acupuncturist are proving more successful than his previous academic forays into the uncertain realms of Theoretical Physics.
Having told the tale of Ivashko Medvedko (Little Ivan, Bear-Child) with the altogether more interesting Rima Staines at Uncivilisation 2011 without embarrassing friends and family or unduly besmirching his own paltry reputation, he was invited back to the next two festivals and took them by storm, though was too modest to say so.
Under the wilfully misappropriated moniker of ‘Coyopa’, Hirons does maintain a blog of sorts, although his contributions to the canon are of little worth and are best avoided. He lives in a home on the edge of Dartmoor, where he says that he sometimes works as a Rites of Passage guide, whatever that is. He has been seen writing poetry and may recite it if provoked or threatened, but thankfully he does not sing.