Thursday 16th of May 2024

coming soon on this site weekly...

Dear readers

In the early 1980s, I wrote a few novels, concurrently... Some were satirical police/detective novels... One of the other novels I have not gone far with, apart from the first few chapters and the throughline, was a fake-historical saga of my "ancestors" from the year 1600 onwards. This is a brave "literary" work, still in the pipeline, while the other works are more or less pulp fiction, including a science-fiction novel planned to be in several parts, now three parts. Of course this work, like all my other written works in English, was never published. Yet, I strongly believed in all of them and still do, but I never presented them to any publishers: I am not a writer, I am a painter/cartoonist/madman...

I had started writing this science-fiction novel on a manual typewriter in 1979, then I moved onto an IBM golf ball electric typewriter, then to a Canon electronic typewriter with a memory that could remember a whole page at a time... then I used an Amstrad computer... Each time while changing "machinery", I had to retype the growing manuscript which I more or less completed on a 486 PC — the computer that followed my crashing 386 PC — about 15 year ago. From then on, I transferred and reworked the lot in various formats, from the earliest version of PageMaker to Quark, onto my newer computing machines — eventually onto the Mac I bought 5 years ago, still in use, and from which all these missives are composed. And Gus Leonisky is my nom-de-plume for good reason. The last time I looked at this novel was ten years ago. If I had to rate this novel like movies are rated, I would say M. for Mature people. Sex and procreation are involved in it.

For the young and the restless out there, one has to realise that computers are only a very recent human invention. We oldies started to write on real slates with stone scribers and chalk pieces taken from chalk cliffs. But whatever tools we performed with, our most important assets were and still are our imagination and our personal purpose — with perseverance.

In my mind, Shakespeare is still the king of "performance display". His understanding of human nature had few equals then and possibly now — apart that nowadays we are being dunked in "performance mundane" with the multiplicity of complex arse-holes' behaviour and the proliferation of mental diseases, glorified, explained and absolved. William knew how to string words in the peculiar verbose vernacular of the time as well. I am new at this — and still gingerly use English, my second language. I have problem with chose and choose regularly, And my understanding of human nature is fairly blunt and mechanical. Not even streetwise, although I used to fist-fight there, in the back-alleys... I do not associate well with the grace of relationship complexities that adorn the world of Jane Austen, for example...  Nor can I engross myself to listen to a Tony Abbott giving his personal screwed version of things. One bores me to tears, the other makes me angry for the gall and the manipulative stupidity of it.

In the early 1980s, there were other stupidities, John Howard was treasurer and such. In some ways I wrote these things for myself — to pander to my screwy imagination, rather than let someone else's wonky visions prevail upon my world of entertainment...

For this science-fiction project, this trilogy of novel, called "Morpheus daughters", I relied on our memory being imperfect, as well as on the exploration of the way time manipulates our existence despite its own non-existence. See, I have flippantly postulated for years that time does not exist per say, but the transformations of energy and matter under which we exist are subject to time's own non-existence in negative and positive forms that may cancel each others. Don't worry. It's a wonky paradox... but a paradox with legs that can reduce the universe to a pinhead — such as the big bang every 150 billion years or so... I also relied on changes to the planet. From the work I was doing with scientists then, I knew the planet could change and would change — including climate change and population explosion... and magnetic reversal... From the dynamics of politics, I had placed Russia and China in control of world affairs with the USA. The starting year was 2032. The present geopolitics may have changed the potential position at 2032, but it won't alter my non-facts...

I am prepared to have a go and release this novel here, on this site. It might be ghastly... I don't know. I must say, there is a strong relationship between democracy and our personal aspirations in the development of this novel — as well as international relationship development — so I think it's relevant. I could let a chapter out every week... A bit like Dickens... A few days from now, I might take the plunge. But I need to know your opinion.

If you feel like commenting, please use this line of comments here. By doing so, the novel would remain integral on its line — a line that could be called "Morpheus daughters" part one,  part two and part three, under a representative image of spacial change.

Let me know if I should or not... I could be mad. Thank you.

may be may be not...

see comment above...