Fiction that lives
at the boundary

One invisible line runs through every book here.

Through deep space. Through a grief counselor’s apartment at 2 a.m. Through the recorded history of the Exodus itself.

You don’t read a Christopher M. Jenkins novel from the outside. You stand next to Moses at the burning bush wondering what that voice actually was. You sit with Ray Garrison on a quiet night shift when the number on the screen ends the argument. You are in the room.

How I Write

I write about what people actually do when things happen to them.

I don’t treat people like props. They’re people. No superheroes, no rescues, no shortcuts. When something happens to them, it costs them.

Forensic Minimalism is how I tell those stories. The central truth is never named. You assemble it from what’s on the page, because I trust the reader.

About the Author

I spent more than two decades teaching, followed by sixteen years as a registered nurse. Now retired, I write and publish fiction through Deep Meridian Press, from South Carolina.

I write the stories I want to tell and the books I want to read.

I was twenty years old, finishing a descriptive assignment I didn’t think much about. A composition class. A story about a planet called Zargonia. I’d always made things up: Star Trek episodes on the playground, missions in the backyard when old cars became spaceships. I assumed every kid did.

Then my instructor wrote this.

A 1983 handwritten note from Christopher's university composition instructor, encouraging him to keep writing

Life happened after that. Family first. Then degrees. Then a career in classrooms and hospitals. Over three decades of rooms where other things mattered more than the stories in my head.

Deep Meridian Press is what happens when the stories finally run out of places to wait.

See the books