My Science Fiction Novels Under the name of Ron Forsythe

I put out my best Sci-fi under the name Ron Forsythe.

I would love it is you were to check out my Blog and website!

All comments are welcome!

Your Site ‹ Ron Forsythe — WordPress.com

Perhaps you would like to check out my books and purchase one or two?

This is my UK Amazon site.

Amazon.co.uk : Ron Forsythe

Thank you for leaving likes and comments and thank you for your reviews!

Conversations with the dead

Conversations with the dead

Today I was looking at my rows of shelves

Where I still have conversations with the dead.

Yesterday I was sharing a joke with Vonnegut and laughing silly,

Having sex in the woodshed with Lawrence,

Getting high with Kerouac in a Mexican Brothel

And shooting at fascists with Hemingway.

I speak to them through the years

And they communicate with me.

Their immortality speaks volumes.

Their words never die.

Their thoughts and dreams are precious.

Today I was looking at the rows of lives that line my mind and rooms,

That shared their imaginations with me,

Who advise me still, inspire and enthrall.

My life would be so much the paler without their words in my head.

I learn so much, am so moved, by my conversations with the dead.

Opher 27.4.2018

A stacked bookshelf is a sign of intelligent life. I do not know where I’d be without reading. Certainly my life would be impoverished.

That bookshelf contains a million lives, millions of experiences, thoughts, people and friends. I find out how they think and feel and share a segment of their lives and they enrich mine.

There is something archaically wonderful about books. Telling stories is one of the oldest traditions of human beings. It is hardwired into our hearts. Those authors may be no longer with us but their genius still rings true. They converse with us from the grave. Their spirit will always live.

The books I have read recently

I started keeping a record of the books I have been reading. I like a range. Some I read for light entertainment and some for deeper enjoyment and insight.

Reading is one of the greatest delights for. The whole of humankinds imagination and knowledge, insight and drama is available to experience.

A person who reads lives a thousand lives.

So true.

The only thing that surpasses the enjoyment of reading is writing.

245. Consider PhlebasIain M Banks
246. The Player of GamesIain M Banks
247. BecomingMichelle Obama
248. CockroachIan McEwan
249. Ham and RyeBukowski
250. Woody Guthrie’s Modern World BluesWill Kaufman
251. First Men Last MenOlaf Stapledon
252. Brief answers to the Big questionsStephen Hawking
253. If it BleedsStephen King
254. HumankindRutger Bregman
255.the boyNikki Mountain
256. Fairport Convention on track – every album every songKevan Furbank
257. Machines like meIan McEwan
258. Jackson C Frank – the clear hard light of GeniusJim Abbott
259. A life on our planetDavid Attenborough
260. The InstituteStephen King
261. 21 Lessons for the 21st CenturyYuval Noah Harari
262.The Carpet PeopleTerry Pratchett
263.The BackpackerJohn Harris
264. Sleeping BeautiesStephen and Owen king
265. The Dying AnimalPhilip Roth
266. My Childhood as I remember itTess Tackett
267. The TestamentsMargaret Atwood
268. the unlikely adventures of the shergill sistersBalli Kaur Jaswal

Roy Harper books available soon. Photos required!

You wait for fifty-five years for one and then two come along at the same time!

I’ve finally completed my two books on Roy Harper.

A songwriter and performer of his stature should have a number of books about him. He deserves to be lauded and cherished for the brilliant work he has consistently produced in the course of a fifty-five-year career.

It’s a travesty that I aim to put right.

The first of my books are already up on Amazon for preorder. It is due to be released on June 22nd.

The things I need to complete the two books are photos – particularly of his early years. If anybody has any copyright-free photos they would like to donate to a worthy cause then please send them through.

My email is Opher@hotmail.co.uk.I will obviously give credit in the books to the photographers concerned.

Thanks for your help!

The Books I have been reading recently

I’ve always got a few books on the go at any time. I like to have variety. I read for enjoyment and mental stimulation.

This is what I have been reading recently. What have you all found enjoyable?

228. A Week in DecemberSebastian Faulks
229. Bowie & HutchJohn ‘Hutch’ Hutchinson
230. The girl who takes an eye for an eyeDavid Lagercrantz
231. The Country’s favourite comic poemsCompendium
232.The three dimensions of freedomBilly Bragg
233. ConclaveRobert Harris
234. Imperial AmbitionsNoam Chomsky
235. Men without WomenHaruki Murakami
236. Killing CommentadoreHaruki Murakami
237. From the insideNick Mason
238. Levels of lifeJulian Barnes
239. The Fear IndexRobert Harris
240. My Purple Scented NovelIan McEwan
241. An Officer and the SpyRobert Harris
242. NutshellIan McEwan
243. The Human StainSebastian Faulks
244. Pigs Might Fly (Pink Floyd)Mark Blake
245. Consider PhlebasIain M Banks
246. The Game Player of TitanIain M Banks
247. BecomingMichelle Obama
248. CockroachIan McEwan
249. Ham and RyeBukowski
250. Woody Guthrie’s Modern World BluesWill Kaufman
251. First Men Last MenOlaf Stapledon
252. Brief answers to the Big questionsStephen Hawking
253. If it BleedsStephen King
254. HumankindRutger Bregman
255.the boyNikki Mountain
256. Fairport Convention on track – every album every songKevan Furbank
257. Machines like meIan McEwan
258. Jackson C Frank – the clear hard light of GeniusJim Abbott
259. A life on our planetDavid Attenborough
260. The InstituteStephen King
261. 21 Lessons for the 21st CenturyYuval Noah Harari
262.The carpet peopleTerry Pratchett
263.The BackpackerJohn Harris

The last holiday – an extract from ‘Farther from the Sun’.

Left to my own devices I most probably would have killed myself long before now. Not deliberately, just by being extreme and obsessive.

12.10.01

 

My mum insists that it was god giving my dad a last good holiday before he called him back. I say nothing. What’s the point of upsetting her if it makes her happy?

They came to Los Angeles when I was teaching there, and we took them around a little in our VW microbus. We were on our way to Grand Canyon when we were stopped by a speed cop for trundling along at 70 MPH on those big old empty highways. The guy actually let us off when he discovered that we were English. Told us to take care and ‘have a nice day’.

We arrived at the Grand Canyon in a snowstorm. It was magnificent.

After a couple of days we went on to Bryce Canyon. From above it looked like fairyland. There was a coating of snow on the tops but the skies were clear and the sun shone. The red rocks of the Canyons looked like miniature red cake decorations coated with icing. The rocks glowed in the sun.

It wasn’t until we set off down into the eroded maze of canyons that the enormous scale of the place became apparent. What looked like delicate striated candy were steep walled canyons. The sides were sheer and the canyons narrow. They rose up hundreds of feet on both sides and hemmed you in. It was dark down there. Only when the sun was overhead could it penetrate to the bottom of those catacombs. Here and there were rock-falls and it was quite dangerous and claustrophobic. We didn’t go too far. I guess reality was not quite as pleasant as magic.

Dad had a great time. He had not travelled at all since the war, not even to go back to Italy. It was the money. It wasn’t until now that he could afford it. This was the first real holiday; the first of what was going to be many, but turned out not to be.

When we’d come out of the canyon we went to a diner to get something to eat. It was a lonesome place stuck out there on the highway. There was a little old lady in there sitting around, passing time. We got talking. She told us that Bryce Canyon had been used for cattle rustling. The outlaws used to steal the cattle and drive them down into Bryce Canyon where they’d remain hidden until the heat cooled down. She told us that when she was a little girl she had met Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. They had been part of a gang that had rustled in that area.

I don’t know if she was bullshitting but I guess that she was old enough for it to have been true, and she sounded pretty convincing when she told us. In any case it brought it home to you. The country was that young. We were in living memory of the wild frontier.

How quickly time changes things.

13.10.01

 

We did not always agree and had some big rows but I know Dad only wanted the best for me.

12.10.01

Motivation – an extract from ‘Farther from the Sun’.

Motivation. That is the word that sums up what we become. Motivation can be good or bad. What motivation do we have and where does it come from?

So what motivates someone into becoming a torturer?

Where does a torturer get their motivation to get up each day and go to work? Are they turned on by screams and burning flesh?

Is that tendency to sadism genetic? If not, where did they learn to enjoy inflicting pain?

What experiences did they go through in their developing years that make them feel happy when observing the pain of other people?

Were these torturers the type of boys and girls that drowned kittens, slowly grilled puppies or pulled the wings off insects?

Were they the bullies who enjoyed the cheap shots, the nasty tweaks and sly kicks?

Were they the ones who co-opted their mates to hold someone down while they punched them in the face or stamped on their head, maybe put cigarettes out on their nipples?

Or were they the sad whimpering abused victims, or bullied wimps, who became so full of hatred that they turned it all around on other people and gained revenge by bullying those who were weaker?

Is this enjoyment of inflicting pain on others an act of revenge?

A result of hatred?

Or do these torturers not enjoy their work at all? Do they see their job as a professional necessity in the war against whatever force is arrayed against their religion or country? For there is always a war being waged and there is never a shortage of torturers.

What makes a torturer?

13.10.01

 

When I gave my little sister away in marriage I said in my speech that it would have been my Dad’s proudest moment. That sounds a bit corny but it was true. We were his proudest possessions. He had little else. We were his reasons to live.

12.10.01

 

Left to my own devices I most probably would have killed myself long before now. Not deliberately, just by being extreme and obsessive.

12.10.01