There are four of us and... yes, we live together. Why?  We don't know.  We were planning to make art.

Maybe we do make art.  We do, in fact, live fiction. Breathe it. We spend our time together, making stories for you. It's true, we're often inebriated, headachy, weeping and unhappy. Sometimes it hurts so bad to wake up in the morning. So bad.  But, listen, we do, every morning, and we write, because we love you.

Sometimes, we hate each other.

That doesn't stop us from holding the most marvelous writing classes or from producing our most beautiful radio show, The Electric Arc.  Hate can be good.  It can be motivational.  Actually, hate is very very bad.  Don't hate.

We don't hate you.  No.  We love you.  Here's some information about the four of us so maybe we can have a relationship.

She is Stephanie Wilbur Ash
Stephanie Wilbur Ash spent her formative years sucking on a chilidog outside a Tastee Freeze. Nothing happened. Later she read Sartre while working as a bank teller until she was fired because her cash drawer was often unexplainably short by several thousands of dollars. She disappeared, resurfacing in Mexico running peyote by jet ski across the Gulf armed only with a spear she fashioned from her existentialist books and held together by the spit of her many lovers, all of whom were jobless poets. She won the hearts of the Lit6Project in a Key Largo sports bar after beating Geoff in a bikini contest by reciting an original oration defending post-postmodernism while untying her top with her toes. She was only admitted into the group when she promised to trade her life of crime for the writing life, which turned out to be pretty much the same thing anyway. She still grifts periodically.

He is Brady Bergeson
Brady Bergeson is of the earth. He sprouted fully grown from the rich, fertile soils of the prairie and learned to walk in fifty-mile-per-hour winds. To this day he is extremely hard to knock over. His first short story, "The Super Song of James J. Dilly Wilson and His Friend Hubert L. Spinkle," was composed during Mrs. Johansen's second-grade handwriting class. When it was rejected by the Paris Review, he vowed never to write again. Decades passed and his pen never touched paper. He refused to sign checks and fill out job applications. Then one day, while sitting in on a city planning commission meeting, as was his hobby, he was stirred by a whip smart female engineer who spoke of road grades and bituminous rock with great passion. He immediately demanded the use of a writing utensil and wrote his first novel, "The City Engineer," on the back of the meeting's agenda. He became a member of the Lit 6 Project when they moved into the house above the basement where he lived. He writes stories, plays and longer works of fiction.

He is Geoff Herbach
Herbach, as he goes by, was born in a small Wisconsin town to a mixed Jewish/Lutheran couple. Life was never easy. His town was built entirely over old lead mines, which collapsed when it rained too much.  The earth swallowed whole homes. In his early twenties Herbach found himself without recourse, so he moved into a dumpster behind a big city McDonald's. It was there he learned to write. By year two, he'd completed his first novel in crayon on the insides of Quarter Pounder wrappers. Unfortunately, the work was lost to a grease fire. Sam and Geoff met at a Vegan convention in 2002. They founded the Lit 6 Project while attempting to sing "Summer Loving" at a Karaoke bar. When not fist fighting his roommates or hugging them or running nude wind sprints on the city block where they live, Geoff writes novels and musicals and other stuff.

He is Sam Osterhout
Kansas is where the Sam Osterhout seedling was sown, in those fertile mid-70’s, among the wheat and grain elevators on the prairie. That seedling grew, multiplied, cell-by-cell, grew thumbs and hands and other miscellaneous body parts, and was reaped in November 1976 in Wichita. He was born with six fingers. In 1999, after having his sixth finger surgically removed, he moved to Minneapolis and began writing under the pseudonym Vagina Woolf. Copies of his books under that pseudonym are still around, including To the Lickhouse and Mrs, Dallywacker, although extremely rare and hard to find. In 2002, he began Live Lit, which was the pre-cursor to the Lit 6 Project. The idea that would become Lit 6 was there. It was a seed. When Osterhout met Geoff Herbach at a Vegan Convention the seed began to sprout.