In 2006, after ten years of marriage and a looming divorce, he flew to South Korea. He created a good face for the job. A good face is the key.
Love? Yes please!
Doraji doraji doraji! I walk over the pass where balloon flowers bloom. Hey-ya, hey! An ya hey say yo! I walk over the pass where balloon flowers bloom. Hey-ha hey! An ya hey say yo! Reminds me of mother and twinkling boys. Hey-ya, hey! An ya hey say yo!
I have finished the second novel of my nomadic surrealist trilogy. The first, Never Mind the Beasts, has the wide lens. The next two the zoom. First person genderless.
The second novel, Hermit Kingdom, is about a language teacher from Poland who migrates to Spain for a new life. Away from the expectations, history and complicated past of their home country, they try to live a simple life, walking in nature and eating healthy, scraping by teaching English as a foreign language, and trying to make sense of existence. Suddenly there is a new pandemic and they are stuck inside, alone and not alone. What is the white monkey? Why are they learning secret handshakes through a hole in a white blanket? Who are you really? Some people are told to find someone to complete themselves and also become somebody. Some people are told to find somebody but not become somebody. Some people are told to become somebody but not to find somebody. I am somebody first and can find anybody later, but when do you know when you are somebody enough to find anybody. What is the complete equation?
The third novel, still in progress, is called The Dreamlife of Honey. It is a shamanistic self help book, with many travels. It is full of bonobos.
And alas, the trilogy is coming into focus. But I am not sure if it will stop there. I am writing a cosmos.
Don Whiskers and Pineapple live in the Docklands, East London, in a council flat. They visit the river for ancient histories. They take the Mega Bus in the Mega City and visit Amsterdam. They stay on a boat called The Gandalf. Back home, they stand on the balcony from the cheap seats and look at Morgan Stanley and HSBC with glowing red lights. They find shiny dinosaurs among the monuments to finance. The monuments are too removed from the human hand. Bring back the human hand. They use their human hands to collect clippings from plants and grow them with superfood. They want them to grow big and strong.
Here is a reading from the Docklands section of my debut novel Never Mind the Beasts, available now from Dostoyevsky Wannabe.
While working in Trieste as a dog walker, and trying to become a writer, he imagines James Joyce, middle class or higher, like almost all artists and writers. He does not have the advantages but also the advantages, coming from somewhere else. You can only do so much, but how much.
The bora howls and howls. His relationship is failing. She wants the product and he wants the process. His wild horses are running away from him. Looking out to sea at Piazza Unita. A nomadic existence, but also stability. Trying to juggle them, like everyone.
Here is a reading from the Italian section of my debut novel Never Mind the Beasts, available now from Dostoyevsky Wannabe.
He took a long time to do it, or at least a long time for some. After the mission, at age 20, he went back to N.Ireland and England, tried on a condom at his cousin’s house, just for the fitting. He wanted to become bohemian and watched Pulp Fiction at the theatre.
He met a young woman from Australia and she told him about doing it, and when you do it, you miss it, and he missed it, even though he hadn’t done it. Then he went to college, at Southern Utah University, worked at a call centre selling Burpie seeds, and before he knew it he was married. They read the patriarchal blessing. They felt the burning in their bosoms.
They moved to Bellingham, WA and then Greensboro, NC. Then, after ten years, the divorce and leaving the United States of America forever for a nomadic existence. No more alien card.
Here is a reading about those years of young love, from my debut novel Never Mind the Beasts, available now from Dostoyevsky Wannabe.
Sad disappointing scary day with Polish elections. Here are some poems from Grzegorz Wroblewski. He was there in Warsaw in the 80’s. Part of the underground punk network, the fight against fascists and the beginning of democracy.
After returning home early from the mission, I had my first sexual experience, it was called docking. I took off my secret garments and attended the trial, in a big wooden room. The devils were coming.
I couldn’t return to my job at the mercantile. Every job interview in the small town asked me if I still believed. But eventually I found a job, in a nearby town, as a shoe salesman, at J.C. Penny, and began dating and attending Jr College dances, posing on haystacks, trying to make myself into something different.
Here is a short excerpt from my novel Never Mind the Beasts, available now from Dostoyevsky Wannabe.
My debut novel, Never Mind the Beasts, has many movements, from many lifetimes and many countries. When I lived in North America, I lived in many states, both physically and mentally, and you might also say spiritually. I went on a holy mission (from 1993-1994) to Boise, Idaho. Age 19-20. But I returned home early, took off my secret underwear, and much later revealed the secret handshakes, and even my secret name. I am supposed to be disemboweled, and also beheaded, according to the signs I made in the secret chambers, but it hasn’t happened, maybe it happens later, after my death, before I am sent to outer darkness for denying the holy spirit. I don’t believe it, but it still scares me.
Here is an excerpt from Never Mind the Beasts. The holy mission and returning home early. This is a true story:
Worzel Gummidge is on the telly. The father has a new calling in the new church to convert more converts, and also a job in London, driving a train in the underground. There is also Bletchley, a swimming pool with a slide, and hot chocolate, from the machine. He learns how long to brush his teeth, and also his talent for reading, but he is not allowed to watch Jesus Christ Superstar. The wrong Jesus. He is not a rock star.
An excerpt from my debut novel, Never Mind the Beasts, now available from Dostoyevsky Wannabe. This except takes place in Milton Keynes England, in Coffee Hall. It is the 1980s and the family has just been converted by Mormon missionaries from America.
Never Mind the Beasts, an experimental working class novel, begins in Portadown, N. Ireland, with my biological father, The Troubles, in one way or another, and then the move to London, first a homeless hostel, and then later Milton Keynes, with government social housing. It begins in the 1974 and then moves into the 80s, 90s, 2000s, and beyond.