B.C. Matthews grew up thinking that Clifford the Big Red Dog was clearly grown in a lab by a mad scientist, and was designed to wreak havoc on the world. After that she was doomed to spend her childhood writing and illustrating the epic wars between clans of sentient feral cats and untamed mutant dogs. Her love of writing sent her off to college among the misty shores of the redwood-lined North Coast of California, where she decided for some tragic reason to major in English, which all lost souls inevitably fall into.

Now she battles mad scientists at a laboratory for the day job, and at night she tends to her small herd of reptiles, strums her ukulele, and flings around a great amount of spray paint for her space paintings.