Books and me
I was slow to read. Whilst my younger sister buried herself in books from the age of four…months, it took me a little longer to penetrate the meaning of all those squiggles on white paper. My parents put this down to my deafness and an inabilty to hear the teacher. The teachers put it down to my being a ‘bit thick’. Nevertheless, having mastered the art by the age of eight, I developed a passion for ghost stories, the Brothers Grimm, Hans Christian Andersen and Robert Louis Stevenson.
As I grew up, my tastes changed as they do and I moved on to Conan Doyle, HG Wells, John Wyndam and Agatha Christie and by now you may see a pattern developing. Whilst some of my dearest friends at college and university were holding philosophical discussions about literature over several pints of Double Diamond, I still yearned for adventure.
When I graduated in 1982 and entered the ranks of the unemployed, I wrote my first novel called The Xylla Heritage. This was set in a world which took for granted that aliens existed and punished those who dared to question their reality. It entertained a few friends and having finally found a job working in exhibition design, I wrote no more for over twenty years.
I cannot say for sure why I started The Condyne paradox although it may have had something to do with a long and very tedious train journey from St.Petersburg to Helsinki. It was originally called Connections but someone had got there before me. Very inconsiderate. This book was followed by Noril'sk, The Occam factor and A china key. By now I had an incurable writing bug and somehow an audience of a few good friends were joined by complete strangers, much to my amazement.
Almaty - the dark city. Part 1
At the end of 1991 the Soviet Union split into 15 countries and Kazakhstan was one of the first to declare its independence. A few months later I visited Almaty which was then the capital. It was just opening up to foreigners and two very different cultures came face to face. I still have no idea who came off worst. More...
Almaty - the dark city. Part 2
I spent most of my first full day in Kazakhstan sleeping and dreaming of aeroplanes or more specifically, of all the storms we passed through between Istanbul and Tashkent before the final leg to Almaty. These unwelcome recollections were thankfully disturbed by a knock on my hotel door. More...
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