almostvoid

My inherited genetics gave me something mental that has helped me write of perspectives situations dimensions within realities and without space inside speculating probabilities not even sought conceptually. Mother was perennially off her head. Father was near void zero presence. I got the extremes of both: which worked wonders. Of mongrel European remnants, an emigrant to the Antipodes, dawdling from Kathmandu to Berlin a long time ago- back to the end of the Earth and into university [arts BA] which taught me how to write with some form of cohesiveness. Ending up in Sydney and driving buses on and off for 17 years. Wrote the first book using knowledge gained travelling through Asia. Spent most of married life going out. Restaurants we did for decades. Pub music because this is where the creative indie bands are best before success makes them go commercial mostly. Darling X- took me to some great theatre - the obscure stuff, as we meandered through life until she ran away for the third time. Which gave me mental space to write the second novel so much quicker. On to the third. A trilogy that progresses and regresses by also changing magnitudes and paradigm shifts in this science fiction epic. Having imbibed quantum theory and mangled it to the max. Writing, what can I say? My mind is a Vomitorium.