Official (long) Bio

John Copenhaver is an award-winning author whose latest novel, Hall of Mirrors, was selected as a New York Times Crime Novel of the Year. His debut, Dodging and Burning, won the 2019 Macavity Award for Best First Mystery and garnered nominations for the Anthony, Strand Critics, Barry, and Lambda Literary Awards. His follow-up, The Savage Kind, earned the 2021 Lambda Literary Award for Best LGBTQ Mystery and was a finalist for the Left Coast Crime Award for Best Historical Mystery.

A passionate advocate for queer voices in crime fiction, Copenhaver co-founded Queer Crime Writers and serves as an at-large board member for Mystery Writers of America. He co-hosts on the House of Mystery Radio Show and is a six-time recipient of Artist Fellowships from the D.C. Commission on the Arts and Humanities. His writing has appeared in CrimeReads, Lit Hub, Electric Lit, Writer’s Digest, The Gay and Lesbian Review, PANK, and more, and he was a longtime crime fiction columnist for Lambda Literary.

Originally from the mountains of southwestern Virginia, Copenhaver teaches fiction writing and literature at Virginia Commonwealth University and mentors in the University of Nebraska’s Low-Residency MFA program. He lives in Richmond, VA, with his husband, artist Jeffery Paul Herrity.

Official (short) Bio

John Copenhaver is an award-winning author whose latest novel, Hall of Mirrors, was named a New York Times Crime Novel of the Year. His debut, Dodging and Burning, won the Macavity Award, and The Savage Kind earned the Lambda Literary Award. A founding member of Queer Crime Writers, he teaches at Virginia Commonwealth University, mentors in the University of Nebraska MFA program, and lives in Richmond, VA, with his husband, artist Jeffery Paul Herrity.

What Scooby-Doo Taught Me About My Ghosts

Writing for me is about chasing ghosts and peeling off masks. I have Hanna-Barbera to thank for that.

As a kid, I would dash home from school, grab a packet of Pop-Tarts and a bottle of Mountain Dew, and hurry to the living room as that all-too-familiar jingle announced my favorite show on TV—Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? I loved this show with such furor, such unadulterated pleasure. I loved it because Scooby and Shaggy were believers. They believed in the Creeper and the Snow Ghost, the Miner 49er and the Witchdoctor even though time and time again, the mask would be ripped off, and the gloriously paranormal would be reduced to some schmuck in a suit.

I wanted to believe in ghosts too.

My father died when I was eight, and I was left with only an outline of a man, a phantom. Out of that void burgeoned my desire to write. My early compulsion to tell stories sprung from a need to fill in his outline, to uncover who he was. Throughout adolescence and my twenties, I continued chasing his ghost. During this time I married a woman, began teaching high school English, and established a conventional straight existence. But the more I pursued him, the more I realized it wasn't my father I was hoping to booby-trap and unveil, but myself. Then, much like hapless Scooby and Shaggy, I ensnared my own ghost and ripped the mask off—I came out of the closet and started living and writing truer to myself.

Now, instead of ripping off goofy latex masks, I pursue my phantoms as psychological metaphors, removing layers of deception and misdirection to unveil the truth about my characters.