blogroid
blogroid
| Forum role | Member since | Last activity | Topics created | Replies created |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Member | May 20, 2009 (17 years) |
- | 1 | 0 |
- Forum role
- Member
- Member since
May 20, 2009 (17 years)
- Last activity
- -
- Topics created
- 1
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Bio
I have nothing to say about myself that will not seem trite, pointless or imaginery.
The bald facts then.
I am an Anglo-Azanian male. I turn 15 on the 11th Sept this year, [2009] the anniversary of my murder by bad people:and later resurrection. The following month, on the 27th, i will be 63, on a day i share with Dylan Thomas, Sylvia Plath and Teddy Roosevelt.
I have been associated with my present wife for 37 years, for most of which we have been married, and we have three champion children, all adults and each successful, each in their own ways.
I live in a large 19th century slightly ramshackle, former farmhouse on a few thousand square metres, in a transforming suburb, in the increasingly dysfunctional city of Jozi, which for the unitiated is the largest and wealthiest city on the poorest, and most basically human, continent of Azania.
I prefer urban life to rural existance and for that reason almost never leave Jozi unless paid to do so and even that i resist.
Increasingly i think that when i was "reborn" 15 years ago, after being shot many times in an otherwise successful gunfight, which i 'won' [talk about a seriously phyrric victory], that i returned to a parallel universe to that in which i 'died'.
That world that i died in was not being excoriated with alleged and misunderstood 'climate change', and the possibility of immanent catastrophe, the way this one is: neither was it quite as filled with pregnant possibility.
Before i 'died' i was a refugee businessman who came from a country that was in permanent recession, dogged by war and international sanctions: and subsequently ceased to exist.
I returned to a country where i had grown up [after emigrating originally from a country where i had been born] and i negotiated contracts for anything that could sell and keep my growing family clothed and fed. Eventually i discovered that no where i had ever been existed anymore
So after recovering from my wounds and come to terms with the idea that i had died and come back to somewhere i retired from all that with what tiny wealth i had accumulated; and since i had in the meantime become unemployable for all sorts of reasons that are hardly relevant, and cannot anyway be challenged, I chose to write fiction, since it seemed my life was fictional anyway.
I have written poetry since the 1970's but that was rarely out of choice... In other words I do not choose to write poetry... Poetry writes me.
One can however choose to write fiction, although it is perhaps a compulsion, because it is not even remotely profitable...
I think perhaps the desire to write is a disease of sorts.
I self-publish my work mainly because to do otherwise is too time consuming in a country with no competitive publishing industry, and a minimal number of serious readers. The Internet rescues me from local obscurity and promises me global obscurity.
I have therefore published two fiction novels: the Buffalo Hunters and The Ashanti Raider, numerous collections of poetry, a tongue in cheek "business book" called "7 Ways" [published on the blogroid site as "Tales of a tickey line trader"] some television scripts,some short stories, many magazine articles for none of which have i ever been paid without either a huge struggle or a massive discount. Between that inconveniece and then dealing with a rapacious tax collector i eventually decided it was more fun writing for me and for free.
I have also written a great deal of publicity type material for political parties on almost any side of whatever political spectrum that comes to mind, or for whoever paid me enough at the time. My favourite accolade was to be called the "best lie writer in the business"... officially it was called "disinformation". I signed a thing that said i was never to divulge the secrets i wrote lies about. I can't remember what the truth was anymore. I also don't do that anymore since ethics became fashionable. I didn't know too much about ethics then.
I have also written about 200 blogs for free on various no longer extant blogsites. Some of these have been rescued and placed on this wordpress site.
On my birthday this year it is my intention to start podcasting a new novel called the Jonker Memorandum, assuming i can finish it and accept its premise. I will read this aloud because I think that a world in which even so trite a publishing house as the Reader's Digest can go bankrupt is no longer a world where there is much point in writing things down, it may be better to read to the planet instead.
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