Farther from the Sun – a novel

This is the novel I am currently working on. I wrote it twenty years ago. It is like visiting with an old friend to work on this. I’m not sure if it works yet but I am enjoying the visit.

Foreword

 

Nothing can be further from the truth, or, it could be the truth, the whole truth.

The more you live, the less life makes sense. Your mortality becomes apparent. You are going to die.

The only fact we know is that there are no facts.

Those were thoughts that readily come to mind as I contemplate my place in life.

As a youth, as a son, I used to toy with naïve philosophical meanderings.

I imagined that I might be drifting in a cage of infinite space, marooned in infinite darkness. I might be all that exists – a mind floating in infinite nothing. I was making the whole universe up.

I considered that it is conceivable that I am alone with my thoughts, with nothing to feed my mind.

I imagined the years rolling by, perhaps decades, perhaps epochs, and my mind seeking something to occupy itself. So, I created the universe out of my imagination. It’s not real.

Or maybe I was/am a prisoner deliberately abandoned and locked in a darkened cell. I might have been alone for decades in that dungeon, sensory deprived and now quite insane.

I imagined myself in my cell. I saw myself talking to my imaginary friends. The darkness, it is now light because that is what I wanted it to be. I create the world out of eddies in the random optic firing of my sightless eyes – out of the sequenced firing of my brain cells seeking to form patterns – out of my thoughts and dreams.

Maybe I create my brain out of my mind. A strange thought.

Are my dreams more real than reality?

I know, they were childish trains of thought, but, what is real? And where am I?

These thoughts are amusing to wander through. For who can say what reality really is?

My walls may be a universe thick with the darkness of eternity.

Are we minds in infinite nothing – in space – in a universe of nothing? Perhaps we all are?

If it were so, a person would have to do something. Ha, it would drive you out of your mind. So we are here. We accept it as reality.

Now, as a father, I live in reality. But I still question that reality.

I exist. I know that. What I am, where I came from, where I am going and the nature of myself, my world and reality, is open to conjecture.

Sometimes I am bored. In those moments one becomes aware of mortality, of the seconds of one’s life drifting past like sand in an egg-timer. The seconds left are diminishing.

In those times death seeks you out. One day I will cease to be.

In the sound of one mind snapping, can death bring an end to the universe? Can a mind fall if there is no one there to catch it?

Mortality is frightening.

We are cushioned from mortality by the bodies of our forebears. They shield us from the fury of the chaotic universe, from death, from meaninglessness, by virtue of their very existence. Death has to get through them to reach you.

Sometimes death sneaks round the edges and seizes an opportunity to grab you, but you can sneer in his face with the absurd confidence of youth. Death cannot touch you. You are young and vital. It will take the old first.

I am a father. I am also a son, a husband, an uncle, a cousin, and hold the latent potential to be a wise old grandfather. But that is of secondary importance for it is about being a father that is of vital importance.

Life brings perspective.

The Process of Writing.

The Process of Writing.

I am certain that this process is different with all writers. We all have our ways of working. It is also clear that it is not always the same with me. Sometimes I have carefully plotted out a novel while at other times, I work with a vague idea and allowed it to unfurl as I progress.

I used the Butch Cassidy principle: there are no rules.

But always, as a novel progresses, as a character develops, a novel takes on a life of its own. It is a coalescence of ideas. I will wake up in the middle of the night with an idea and have to get out of bed to write it down or it is likely to go.

All my novels start with an idea. That might be sparked by a news story, a book I am reading, a programme I am watching or a train of thought. One idea is never enough though. It has to be married to others.

Often the end of the novel is what emerges first. I will often write the end first.

Always there comes that time when you sit at a computer (or a typewriter) and begin. You have a blank page in front of you and a head full of ideas. With me, there is excitement and anticipation.

The ideas have to have a setting and characters. With Sci-Fi, there are infinite possibilities.

I often write a beginning that is later superseded by another beginning. Once I get that first sentence down the rest seems to flow. The characters develop, the scenes change, the ideas flow. I struggle to keep up. It becomes like a line of dominoes. One knocks over another which sets two more falling over. I write quickly, trying to keep up with the ideas, following the characters and inventing settings. I work on the principle that with the first rewrite I can expand and fill everything out. It is as if the first draft is a rough sketch that gives the outline of the book. The rewrite starts to fill in the colour.

It is usual for me to increase the word by a good fifty per cent.

The second rewrite will again add a lot more.

The third rewrite is more of an editing process – changing words, altering sentence structure, correcting grammar.

The most important part for me in writing a novel is to get that first sentence down. After that, it is like an egg-timer. The sand grains are the ideas, characters and settings; I just allow them to trickle through until my head is empty.

Zargos Ecstasy – The main character of Star. A composite of many parts.

Zargos Ecstasy – The main character of Star. A composite of many parts.

Zargos was an easy character to create. I wanted someone who was sensitive, empathic and rebellious. He had to be a highly competent poet, philosopher, leader and musician but also someone with huge charisma and stage presence.

I merely borrowed aspects of all the major Rock Stars of the sixties. The poet philosopher and ‘leader of a generation’ was straight out of the Bob Dylan myth. The rebellious social commentator and activist was a mixture of John Lennon, Dylan and Phil Ochs. The strutting, exciting, larger than life Rock Star was Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison and Mick Jagger. The costume, face paint and drama was Arthur Brown, David Bowie and Alice Cooper. All I had to do was roll them into one and create a compassionate composite.

Available in both paperback and kindle from Amazon.

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John Fowles quote on why we write

I found this quote in ‘The French Lieutenant’s Woman’ and thought it was interesting. Food for thought maybe
“…novelists write for countless different reasons: for money, for fame, for reviewers, for parents, for friends, for loved ones; for vanity, for pride, for curiosity, for amusement: as skilled furniture makers enjoy making furniture, as drunkards like drinking, as judges like judging, as Sicilians like emptying a shotgun into an enemy’s back. I could fill a book with reasons…..”
It started me thinking about all the different reasons there are for writing and why we enjoy it so much. I’ve obviously got too much time on my hands. Far too much thinking going on.

An extract from – Farm 703 – The Human Project

This is a little extract from the Sci-fi novel I am currently working on. Humans are farmed by bacteria. There is intrigue in the bacterial ranks. Malco 145 is stirring up trouble for Project Leader Zane 1.

Farm 703 – The Human Project

You do not get to be opposition leader if you are a slouch. Malco 145 had been impatiently waiting in the wings for a hundred thousand years. She had jealously watched Zane 1’s success and noted every slight Zane 1 had made to her, storing up her pain and frustration. She had patiently waited for an opportunity. But she had not been idle. She had been not only looking for a weakness but also plotting to exploit it when she discovered one and discover one she had.

The obvious weakness was the human project. It also provided the ideal opportunity to undermine Zane 1. Humans were numerous, capricious and uncontrollable. She could easily covertly insert her own control units in the human subunits to counter Zane 1s attempts at control. She could then orchestrate disruption, make humans more violent and destructive and thus make Head Office more sceptical of Zane 1’s project.

Plans take a long time to reach their culmination but it was always pleasing to see them working so well. By the time Zane 1 had woken up to what was going on, if she ever did, it was probably too late to do anything about it.

Malco 145 mentally gathered her campaign organisers around her for a weekly progress report. They were used to this tight-knit tuning. The group of them had melded. They had a common interest – the pursuit of power.

‘Right Ibbo 170, perhaps you can start us off?’

‘Only too glad,’ Ibbo 170 replied, sending through a happy red aura, ‘as you know the whole project has been highly successful, even if I say it myself.’ The aura turned crimson. ‘The wars in the Middle East have successfully stirred up the fundamentalists. The wave of ensuing terrorism has undermined the Western governments and created panic in the population. The poverty and war led to mass immigration that created a hysterical wave of racism and xenophobia leading to the rise of extreme right-wing groups.’ She oscillated the aura between crimson and orange. ‘I think my job is done. I’ve laid the foundation for everyone else. So I’ve put things on hold. I’ve reduced both the levels of terrorism, war and immigration. It’s served its purpose. They are on hold, but ticking over in places like Syria and Yemen, should we need to give things another push.’

‘Extremely impressive Ibbo 170,’ Malco 145 said waving her flagella and flashing red, ‘I’ve been watching with admiration at the way you organised that.’ She turned her big red eyespot on to Cras 501.

Cras 501 stretched her flagella and flashed an orange aura. ‘All going well on this front as well,’ she announced. ‘Ibbo 170 laid the foundation,’ she flashed crimson at her. ‘The population were suitably panicked. We sneaked our man in and he is performing admirably. So far he has completely undermined all scientists and experts, reduced funding from all science and environment projects and is denying any environmental problem exists. He’s re-arming, threatening other countries, undermining allies, supporting right-wing groups and promoting weapons, misogyny and hatred. I’ve never seen such a divided nation. It simply could not have gone better.’ She flushed a satisfied pink.

Malco 145 waved her anterior flagella in appreciation. She flashed a crimson chuckle. ‘I know. I’ve been watching all this with interest. I don’t know how you pulled it off. Well done.’ She turned her attention to Trab 83.

‘Same story here,’ Trab 83 said, glowing a self-satisfied orange. ‘Following Ibbo 170’s brilliant work it was easy. The racists came out of the closet. Everyone was terrified about a Muslim take-over. They voted to come out of the European Union. We managed to get them to vote for a complete buffoon. The European Union is in crisis. There is division, turmoil and economic gloom. The humans are in a mess.’

Malco 145 chuckled in crimson waves. ‘Most excellent.’ She turned to Herd 13.

‘All good,’ Herd 13 announced, matching the other orange glows. ‘The population is all riled up. They put cash before everything else. Our man promised to make them wealthy and the gullible fools fell for it. He’s been elected and is now busy destroying the last haven of wild-life and nature on the farm. There are fires currently raging throughout the Amazon. All proceeding according to plan.’

‘This will all recover?’ Malco 145 asked anxiously, concerned that they might be creating long-term problems for themselves when they took over. It would be imperative to get productivity back on course.

‘You bet,’ Herd 13 replied. ‘Once the humans are out of the way we’ll speed up evolution and hey presto – it all springs back to life. Farm 703 will be back in business in no time at all.’

Malco 145 flashed her a crimson beam of pleasure. ‘Superb job Herd 13.’ The last of the group was Plac 47. Their red eyes all turned to her.

‘I have it ready to go,’ Plac 47 told them. There was no flash of colour. It wasn’t Plac 47s nature. She was a very cool, calculated person. Her integument remained neutral and her cilia were all relaxed. It was not that she was the only Cocc in the group; it was merely her personality. ‘I have concocted a virus that is highly virulent, extremely contagious and for which there is no resistance. It will wipe out ninety nine percent of all humans.’ She turned her red eye on to Ibbo 170. ‘I trust I can leave that one percent to you?’

‘No problem,’ Ibbo 170 replied, flashing orange. ‘I think we can manage that.’

‘If not,’ Plac 47 stated coldly, studying Ibbo 170 with her eyespot, ‘I can easily release another. I have a few other lethal viruses on standby.’

‘Good to know,’ Malco 145 told her. ‘What of this virus you’ve just released – this corona virus – covid-19?’

‘That is doing well,’ Plac 47 replied. ‘Containment is failing. It is about to create a major worldwide pandemic.’ She turned her attention to Malco 145. ‘As you instructed, I have produced a virus that has a mortality rate of around two percent but which requires extreme medical care for over ten percent. I believe you wanted it to cause panic, create further disruption of world trade, generate more distrust and division and hit the global economy without drawing attention to the fact that it was manufactured by us?’

‘That’s right,’ Malco 145 enthused. ‘It seems to be doing that well. Excellent job Plac 47.’ There was no response. Plac 47 was not prone to extravagant displays.

Malco 145 went as dull yellow as she contemplated their position. Finally looking up she turned her red eye from one to the other. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly, gently wafting her flagella. ‘We seem to be right on course. We have Zane 1 right where we want her. Farm 703 is plummeting into chaos. Productivity is at absolute bottom. The humans are out of control and looking a complete disaster. Surely Head Office cannot afford her any more leeway?’ Her gaze bobbed around them all. ‘This is the time we have all been waiting for – the endgame. We will soon have the power we crave. Then we can knock this farm back into shape.’

The whole group, apart from Plac 47, turned a deep crimson, and even she managed a mute orange.

‘There is still much work to be done,’ Malco 145 warned them. With that she broke the tune.

Neanderthal – A Sci-fi novel

Here is a short section from the book:

Chapter 1

 

It was a sunny day in London. The brightness lit up the fancy brickwork façade on the old main block of the Queen Mary Imperial College, one of the many jewels of London University. On campus students were sprawled on the grass talking. Some were reluctantly strolling along the paths towards the many modern buildings that housed their lectures. It was one of those hot summer days in which nobody had any desire to be inside, indeed, nobody had any desire to do anything, except to loll about in the sun and talk.

But inside the Blizard Hall the Perrin lecture theatre was packed. It seated four hundred, but there was standing room only. They had come to hear Roger Comstock give one of his renowned talks on human evolution. He was the main man and could always be relied on to provide an interesting, lively exposition, with a few quirky controversial ideas thrown in for good measure. It made him extremely popular and well worth forsaking the pleasures of the languid summer heat.

Roger was coming to the end of his lecture.

‘And then there is the mystery of the Neanderthal man,’ Roger shrugged. ‘I feel very close to the Neanderthal,’ he explained with a broad smile. ‘Probably because, as a European, I always carry a bit of Neanderthal around with me. Up to 4% of our genome is made up of Neanderthal genes. They live on in us.’

There was a murmur of asides with some titters of laughter.

‘At one time we coexisted with the Neanderthal. We even bred with them. But then that isn’t so very unusual,’ he cocked his head and chuckled, ‘I’m sure we are all aware of some people who would try to bred with any species they could get their hands on.’

A louder chortle went round the lecture theatre.

‘Now I know some of you purists out there will be a bit sceptical here. Were Neanderthals really a separate species of humans? Surely if they were, by definition, they could not successfully interbreed. Well that is certainly open to debate. Perhaps we should technically regard them as a subspecies? It is a moot point. The truth of the matter is that these people were a distinct second group of humans with genetically different genomes and we did somehow manage to successfully interbreed with them.’

‘Just imagine what it would be like if we shared this planet with other species of man – human beings of a different kind with many characteristics that were not the same. Intelligent people like us but yet dissimilar. How would that affect our psychology?’

He allowed his audience to dwell on that for a moment or two.

‘Perhaps their thought patterns would be very divergent to ours. They might have novel ideas and views on life.’

‘Just think what an impact that might have on the way we behave if we weren’t the only intelligent beings on this planet.’

‘We’d probably wipe them out!’ One bold student called out.

‘hmmf – We probably did,’ Roger replied, peering into the dim vicinity from where the voice had come. He chuckled again. ‘We probably did.’

Turning back to address the auditorium. ‘At one point in our evolution, back in Africa, we did share the planet with other species of humans. There were at least four species of early man who coexisted on that continent. Would it affect our religious outlook? Our view of ourselves? Our social aims? Or our politics? I ask you, would we be different people if we shared this planet with other species of intelligent human beings? Would we see ourselves another way if we did not regard ourselves as the pinnacle of evolution?’

Roger paused and looked down at the floor as if in contemplation before looking back up at his audience.

‘When they dug up those early fossils in the Neander Valley near Dusseldorf, there was a lot of controversy. To start with there was this huge brain capacity. Neanderthals had considerably bigger brains than us. Their capacity was up to 1,600 cm3 as compared to our modest 1,200 to 1,450 cm3. We certainly couldn’t be having that now could we? It might well indicate that they were a good deal brighter than we were.’

There was another murmur.

‘Of course, brain size doesn’t necessarily equate with intelligence, does it? The sperm whale has a brain that is greatly bigger than humans, as does the elephant. Does that mean they are more intelligent?’

‘Neither of them have to work for a living,’ the same wag called out.

‘No, that is certainly true,’ Roger said smiling broadly, looking round towards the direction of the voice. ‘They don’t have to work. But they do get hunted and killed and none of them have yet developed any technology.’

‘Is developing hydrogen bombs a sign of intelligence?’ the discorporate voice called out.

Roger searched the indistinct shadowy faces for the source of this dialogue. He quite liked getting a response from his audience but liked to put a face to it.

‘Probably not,’ he agreed. ‘But what is certainly true is that human beings do not like their supremacy challenged. There has been much energy expended in attempting to prove that while Neanderthal brains might well be bigger they certainly weren’t smarter. The cynics have churned out paper after paper discussing the relative size of the optical regions and motor regions. According to these research papers, our friends the Neanderthal were brilliant at seeing and controlling their bodies but lacked the cerebral folds to challenge us when it comes to maths or science. They’d be good at body popping though.’

He pursed his lips and shook his head. ‘I’ll leave it to you to check out what you think on that subject and come to your own conclusions.’

‘But I digress,’ Roger said, looking round at them. ‘Getting back to that mystery. Neanderthals prospered in Europe. They had migrated out of Africa at a much earlier stage to us and colonised a wide area. They had developed a rich culture and technology. Their use of fire, tools and cave painting was at least as advanced as ours. But around 40,000 years ago they suddenly all died out. Why was that?

He held his hands out, leaned forward and raised his eyebrows as if wanting to illicit an answer from them.

‘Some say it was due to the climate warming. They were shorter and stockier, with shorter limbs, well-adapted for cool conditions. But personally I don’t hold with that theory. They migrated out of Africa and were highly intelligent. I don’t think they would have evolved that much to find a bit of climate warming a major obstacle. I reckon that if it became too hot for them I think they could easily have migrated further north or followed the herds, just like we did. It does not make sense to me.’

He strode to the side of the stage with his head down, rubbing his chin with his thumb thoughtfully, then stopped and looked back up.

‘Some say it was competition with Homo sapiens that wiped them out. Perhaps it was? We are a pretty competitive and vicious lot.’ He grinned round at them and began pacing to the other side.

‘Another theory is that they were bred out of existence.’ He paused again. ‘There, we’re back to those people who would breed with anything that moved – or indeed, a number of things that didn’t.’

Another chuckle went round the assembly.

‘Personally I don’t hold with any of these views,’ Roger said seriously, coming to a halt and peering round at the gathered students who were all straining to hear what he had to say. ‘All the evidence is that the Neanderthals were highly intelligent, had technology and yet suddenly disappeared off the scene.’

He raised his eyebrows and gestured.

‘So what was it?’ He spread his hands and looked around at his audience. ‘A cataclysmic event – such as volcanic eruptions? But surely that would have affected us too? Or was it a virus that did for them?’

He began pacing again.

‘I guess we’ll never know.’ He shook his head in sadness and then came to a halt centre stage, looking straight ahead. ‘So I guess we’ll never know what it feels like to share the planet with another species of human beings.’

If you would like to read one of my books they are all available on Amazon. Below are some links to Neanderthal:

 

In the UK:

Sci-fi as Ron Forsythe

 

Neanderthal

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Neanderthal-Ron-Forsythe-ebook/dp/B082WL81DH/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=Ron+Forsythe&qid=1584522147&s=books&sr=1-1&swrs=17C3F1C42D8DCBDBBA4459BE44B869C4

In the USA:

Sci-fi as Ron Forsythe

 

Neanderthal

 

https://www.amazon.com/Neanderthal-Ron-Forsythe-ebook/dp/B082WL81DH/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=Ron+Forsythe&qid=1584522932&s=books&sr=1-1

Writing in progress.

Yesterday I completed my rewrite of my new Sci-fi novel – Farm 703 – The Human Project.

That was a huge effort. I have been working non-stop.

I shall lay that one aside now. I need to gain a little objectivity.

So I am turning my attention back to the other Sci-fi novel – Schizoid.

I am starting work today on the final edit. It has been put out for reading and I am eager to hear what people think. So today I shall immerse myself in another world or two. Wish me luck.

If you would like to read one of my books they are all available on Amazon. Below are some links to a selection:

 

In the UK:

 

Nick Harper – The Wilderness Years

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/s?k=Nick+Harper&i=stripbooks&ref=nb_sb_noss

 

The Blues Muse

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Blues-Muse-Opher-Goodwin-ebook/dp/B01HDQEMQ6/ref=sr_1_28?keywords=opher+goodwin&qid=1584522597&s=books&sr=1-28&swrs=8CA1CF015D23C1B999212425353077BC

 

In Search of Captain Beefheart

 

 

Sci-fi as Ron Forsythe

 

Neanderthal

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Neanderthal-Ron-Forsythe-ebook/dp/B082WL81DH/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=Ron+Forsythe&qid=1584522147&s=books&sr=1-1&swrs=17C3F1C42D8DCBDBBA4459BE44B869C4

 

God’s Bolt

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Gods-Bolt-Ron-Forsythe/dp/109271359X/ref=sr_1_2?keywords=Ron+Forsythe&qid=1584522214&s=books&sr=1-2

 

Reawakening

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Reawakening-Sequel-Gods-Ron-Forsythe/dp/1094954586/ref=sr_1_3?keywords=Ron+Forsythe&qid=1584522266&s=books&sr=1-3

 

Education as Christopher Goodwin

 

A passion for education – The story of a Headteacher

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/s?i=stripbooks&k=Christopher%20Goodwin%20Headteacher&ref=nb_sb_noss&url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks

 

In the USA:

 

Nick Harper – The Wilderness Years

 

https://www.amazon.com/Nick-Harper-Wilderness-Opher-Goodwin-ebook/dp/B083CQT6Z5/ref=sr_1_2?keywords=Nick+Harper&qid=1584374165&s=books&sr=1-2

 

The Blues Muse

 

https://www.amazon.com/Blues-Muse-Opher-Goodwin-ebook/dp/B01HDQEMQ6/ref=sr_1_8?keywords=Opher+Goodwin&qid=1584522858&s=books&sr=1-8

 

In Search of Captain Beefheart

 

https://www.amazon.com/Search-Captain-Beefheart-Opher-Goodwin-ebook/dp/B00O4CLKYU/ref=sr_1_10?keywords=Opher+Goodwin&qid=1584522893&s=books&sr=1-10

 

Sci-fi as Ron Forsythe

 

Neanderthal

 

https://www.amazon.com/Neanderthal-Ron-Forsythe-ebook/dp/B082WL81DH/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=Ron+Forsythe&qid=1584522932&s=books&sr=1-1

 

God’s Bolt

 

https://www.amazon.com/Gods-Bolt-Ron-Forsythe-ebook/dp/B07QB9CFJL/ref=sr_1_8?keywords=Ron+Forsythe&qid=1584522958&s=books&sr=1-8

 

Reawakening

 

https://www.amazon.com/Reawakening-Sequel-Gods-Ron-Forsythe-ebook/dp/B07QQ2PX37/ref=sr_1_7?keywords=Ron+Forsythe&qid=1584522995&s=books&sr=1-7

 

Education as Christopher Goodwin

 

A passion for education – The story of a Headteacher

 

https://www.amazon.com/passion-Education-story-Headteacher-ebook/dp/B00NRC66E2/ref=sr_1_2?keywords=Christopher+Goodwin+a+passion&qid=1584523061&s=books&sr=1-2&swrs=EC8906D12A2A37C516AE64321C2CA91D

 

If you live in other parts of the world please check on your local Amazon where you will find my books!

 

Thank you for looking!

 

All the best

 

Opher

What we need is a new, positive zeitgeist!

What we need is a new, positive zeitgeist!

 

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Every age has a prevailing zeitgeist. I believe it is created by the conglomerate mindset of the people and we all swim in its flood.
The sixties was a time of deep distrust of the establishment and its war machine. The counter culture set about leaving the breadheads to one side and producing a more spiritual community based on sharing, harmony and love. It was a time of great optimism, fun and happiness. It was great for a while until everyone woke up to find they were merely being ripped off and exploited in a different way and that the war machine and environmental destroying machine were still churning away.
This present zeitgeist has been born out of despair at austerity, runaway capitalism, inequality, hopelessness, joblessness, terrorism, mass migration, low wages, frustration, fear and helplessness. People have lost all faith in the establishment but are turning to extreme politics to vent their frustrations. They see that we are definitely not all in it together and the politicians are not making a jot of difference; they are pawns in the game. The right-wing and fascists, with their black and white rhetoric, easy answers, fear induction, racism and xenophobia, offer up easy solutions. What everyone wants is to believe in easy solutions.
I think the zeitgeist is one of fear, despair and a need to change. It’s the mass psychology of the age. The right-wing are exploiting it. It is what they feed off. In many wayus there are analogies to be drawn with the 1930s.
Hence we have the rise of right-wing politics, the Tea Party, UKIP, Trump and Brexit. On the continent the ultra-right parties are gaining ground big time.
I believe this needs opposing in every way possible. There are no easy answers. Belligerence and war do not solve problems. Isolationism is in nobody’s interest. Racism and xenophobia create problems.
The future is global cooperation, global laws, global rights, global enforcement of laws. The imperative is the protection of the planet.
We need to jettison the mad capitalist system with its mantra of growth and profit, which is destroying the planet and creating mass inequality and war. Greed is not the answer. Selfishness is not a solution. Compassion, empathy and love are much better.
There are better ways for us to live on this planet. For the sake of nature and our great grandchildren we need to create a different zeitgeist.

I have just had my writing style analysed on line! James Joyce, Agatha Christie and Harry Harrison!

I have just had my writing style analysed on line! James Joyce, Agatha Christie and Harry Harrison!

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This is hilarious. I cannot stop doing it.

I have just analysed my writing style on line. It seems my novel – Ruminating on Roy Harper – a big hip adventure through the 60s and up to today is in the style of Agatha Christie! I analaysed 4 sections all with the same result! So much for hip writing!

My 537 Essential Rock albums is Harry Harrison and my Reality Dreams is James Joyce!

What a weird combination. How accurate do you think they are?

Wow! – I’ll settle for James Joyce any day (or Harry Harrison) – not so sure about Agatha Christie – perhaps I ought to give her a read!

In the UK

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Opher-Goodwin/e/B00MSHUX6Y/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1477349596&sr=1-2-ent

In the USA

https://www.amazon.com/Opher-Goodwin/e/B00MSHUX6Y/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1477349625&sr=1-2-ent

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15 thoughts on “I have just had my writing style analysed on line! James Joyce, Agatha Christie and Harry Harrison!”

        1. Not sure if this is the one Opher used – but found this: https://iwl.me

          I put in my last three fiction posts and had to laugh when first came up as Agatha Christie. Then it was Daniel Defoe and Stephen King – think I’m going to get addicted too. I’m very impressed by James Joyce as a comparison Opher!

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Readers Wanted!! Volunteers!!

Does anybody out there want to take on the task of reading, criticising and suggesting changes for a work in progress??

I have completed the second draft of a Sci-fi novel called Schizoid. It is the sequel to Quantum fever but has been written as a stand alone.

I am presently writing another Sci-fi novel called Farm 703. I am shortly going to get back to Schizoid to start to write a third draft. It would be extremely valuable to me to get some objective comments on what I need to do to improve the novel in that third redrafting.

Anybody fancy the challenge?

You don’t need any great skills – just an opinion and a critical eye.