Reality Dreams – My latest book – A weird psychedelic Sixties extravaganza.

Posted on by Opher

This is an extract – just to show you how weird it is. It is not often that your main character starts the story as a sperm:-

This is Chapter 1.

He was dimly aware of his existence, irritated by a sense of incompleteness, feeling lonely and lost, as if the bulk of himself was missing.

He had very little sensation. He could neither see nor hear. He knew not that he lacked senses with which to probe his surroundings. He had no comprehension of senses or self. Yet sensations of a kind did filter through to his cloudy awareness. He felt safe and warm. He felt the touch of a caring companion. There was no need to worry. He knew he was a tiny cog in some huge machine. It did not concern him. He was cared for and maintained but ultimately he was of no importance. His loss would pass unnoticed.

He flexed his body and felt joy at the pent up power that he felt. Yet he was not yet free to move. He lay quietly and attended to the flow within himself – waiting.

All around him he could feel the presence of others. They pressed in on him from all sides; their thoughts were impinging, crude and inexpressive, like those of his own.

He was patient. He awaited his destiny.

As his awareness grew he developed a feeling of being apart from the millions he sensed pressing around him. His life was full of dreams in which he felt incomplete; he felt that there was a greater self to which he was only half. His other half, the half he sought, was not to be found among these similar beings that surrounded him. She was far away. The huge distance of their separation haunted him and aggravated his sense of incompleteness so that he was consumed with a desire to be united. He could not imagine her and wondered if she was able to conceive of him. He felt that they were separated in some colossal abstraction with an overpowering longing to be together. It dominated his life.

Yet there was nothing he could do but hang suspended. He waited, poised in the darkness of his existence with vague feelings that he and his companions were part of some greater consciousness, something huge and distant, which drained his own cognizance as if it were a mental flea gorging on his thoughts, amalgamating them into something more substantial.

A change came. There was a schism that left him feeling more alert, more awake. He had separated from that he had been and felt invigorated, purer, with more purpose. The energy coursed through him and he was filled with impatience. He could taste it in the currents around him. The potential to move welled up inside him and yet he felt restrained. Unfettered he would have sped through the fluids in which he floated, but he was moored, held back, still waiting to be released. His overriding desire was to locate his other half so that he could be complete. Nothing else mattered. It was the sole and overriding purpose. The tension within him was building. He was coiled like a spring.

Out there in the distance he knew his other half felt very much the same. She too was clearer and more alert, certain that fulfilment would be soon. She too had separated and was overcome with a sense of imminence. Yet her being was calmer and more controlled. Unlike him she could not move and had no desire to. Instead she produced subtle alluring chemistry that she scattered in the fluid around her. Patience was her game.

Her world was rocked by a huge convulsion. She was ejected, buffeted, shaken and spun madly before finally coming back to rest. She drifted lackadaisically on the currents, waiting and luring with her secreted messages, seeking that uniting where-in she might become one.

All of a sudden he was rapidly moved along in an overpowering current, to come to rest in a huge chamber, crammed together with millions of others like fish in a net, silently waiting, bewildered and yet excited. It felt as if his destiny had arrived.

It came! He was shot down tubes at huge speed. Chemicals and fluids were poured on him as he was helplessly propelled forwards in a tidal wave of blurred movement. He gave himself up to it as it boosted him onward, helpless in its terrible grip. Yet even as he was buffeted and pounded he could feel the chemicals bringing him to life, activating his latent energy and flooding his body with power. If he could only free himself from this irresistible torrent he knew he could move like never before.

Eventually it came to a halt. Yet he was not free. All around the fluid had vitrified to hold him in place. He was trapped. It seemed to last for eternity but then he could feel it melting him to free him from his prison and he was free. He flexed and raced in nascent delight, exhilarating in the freedom and giving full vent to the locked up power that had been held in check for so long.  He had been released. He was free to flex his body, to propel himself, to charge madly forward.

He became aware of a new sensation. Something from outside filtered through to him – a scent drifting on the currents of his new world, an alluring aroma that was the most exciting sensation he had ever experienced. He instinctively knew what it was. He recognised it immediately even though he had never encountered it before. It was his other half. They were now close. He could sense her. It was what he had dreamed of through those long lonely aeons of time that he had spent caged.

Yet he sensed that those around him had noticed too. They were equally agitated and eager. The waters were churned as they turned and swam. A terror consumed him as he gathered his determination and swam the currents with all the force at his command. He had to reach her first. He raced to beat his fellows and gather the spoils for himself. To fail would leave him without hope or purpose. He knew she waited for him. He had to reach her.

He swam until his body felt exhausted and yet he could not afford to stop. He had to prove himself the stronger. The scent was so strong now that it consumed his consciousness with a raging desire which drove him frantically on beyond the limits of his overstretched resources, yet he refused to lessen his pace. Around him others slowed and dropped behind, their energy consumed, but he pressed on. His determination drove him forward. The numbers around him lessened and that served to drive him on even faster. The scent was unbearable. He knew she was close. He could feel the euphoric presence of her like an overpowering drug.

He arrived and pressed up against the wall that kept him from her. All around him others were fighting to get through that wall all consumed by the same fervour. There was a mad surging melee. They were all releasing their chemicals to break down that barrier – and it was working. He could feel that barrier dissolve. He joined in, thrashing for all his might to force his way through the liquefying wall that separated him from his only hope. All around hundreds of thousands were doing the same as determined as himself. He was desperate. He had to prove himself the fittest and the best. He dashed himself against that last barricade and strove frantically with all his might. Nothing else mattered. He had to get through. He had to beat them. He had to prove himself the stronger.

He broke through into a world of peace. He had won the prize. Behind him the others could no longer enter and were doomed to thrash away in futility until overcome with exhaustion. Their wittering counted for nothing. He alone would be fulfilled.

He moved across to embrace, merge and become one; to live and grow.

There before him she slowly turned and welcomed him. He raced across for that most fulfilling embrace.

They became whole.

Reality Dreams – my weird Sixties book – now available in paperback!!

Posted on by Opher

My latest book – also my oldest book – is now available in paperback!!

This is quite a nostalgic trip for me. When I started writing this I was making notes in a notebook while sitting in my bedroom in a student flat I shared with Liz and two friends – Bede and Sally in 1971. I remember the summer sun dappling the walls with bright waving patterns on the gross patterned wallpaper as I started my writing career.

Those notes were eventually carefully typed up with one finger on an old Remington typewriter.

I sent off the manuscript to various publishers with high hopes. Thus began my large collection of rejection slips!

To now hold that book in my hands feels like a very strange experience. Even through the flaws and some of the early thinking there is still enough to fill me with elation. This was my first of 54 books. I’m loving it.

If you fancy checking it out then this is the UK Amazon link:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/buy/thankyou/handlers/display.html?ie=UTF8&asins=1977593259&isRefresh=1&orderId=206-4017476-4105149&purchaseId=204-6247696-5713137&viewId=ThankYouCart

The book will on your local Amazon.

Reality Dreams – Opher’s weird Sixties book now available on kindle!

Posted on by Opher

Surprisingly quickly my book has been processed and is available on Amazon in kindle format. This is the link to Amazon UK.

 

I’m still waiting for the paperback version to manifest itself.

Happy reading!!

Be prepared for a right old mixture! This was sixties remember!

 

Reality Dreams – a Sixties Feast written and compiled in 1971/3 – shortly available on Amazon!!

Posted on by Opher

After nearly 50 years I have finally published my 60s extravaganza – not so much a novel as an experience!!

This is a typical 60s book – full of psychedelic weirdness and expansive ideas, dripping with spirituality, strangeness and chaos.

If you are looking for a standard novel this one won’t be your cup of tea. This is a look in the head of a young man who was immersed in the 60s counter-culture and poured all the weirdness into this book. Not many books start with the main character as a sperm!

The book has now gone through its editing and review stages and will be shortly to be found sitting on my Amazon shelf in both digital and paperback versions.

I’ll keep you posted when it makes its appearance later this week.

Reality Dreams – my new book – presently in the process of being published.

Posted on by Opher

Reality Dreams was my first book. I started writing it in 1971. It took me three years to complete.

I thought it was a brilliant new kind of book – totally revolutionary – a feast of prose, poetry, cartoons, philosophy, social concern, spirituality and observation. It had some great pieces of writing.

However the publishers did not see it quite the same. They thought my psychedelic masterpiece was a chaotic wreck.

They were probably right. It was a creature of its time – a beast of a sixties book.

Well I’ve rewritten it a couple of times and, with the objectivity of distance, I can see the substantial flaws.

However, I did not allow that to stunt my enthusiasm. I have upgraded the writing (can’t do anything about the structure) and tidied it up. It is now a nostalgic trip into the psychedelic dungeons of my 1960s cerebral folds.

My nostalgic trip will now – after forty five years of gestation – finally taste the bite of ink.

Well at least I’m looking forward to it!

The Artist – a section from my first ever book written in 1971/3 – Reality Dreams

Posted on by Opher

I started writing this book way back in 1971. I called it Reality Dreams because that is what it is. At the time I was carried away with the concept in my head. I thought I was writing something revolutionary that combined art, poetry, philosophy and prose into what could be considered as ‘a novel’. I felt nothing like it had ever been done before. It was totally new.

The publishers did not share my enthusiasm.

I later came to realise that what I had created was a bit of a sixties psychedelic hotch-potch. But I love it.

It has been fun visiting with my young self, hanging out and reacquainting myself with the nascent ideas, bold and fearless writings, naïve thinking and idealistic stance. It was refreshing. I was certainly reaching beyond my grasp.

I’m not sure how accessible it is to any outside reader.  The writing is patchy and the concept flawed, It is more of a patchwork quilt than a novel. I do not even any longer subscribe to some of the philosophy, but it is of its time. It is a sixties book even though it was written in the early seventies.

I am so delighted to be publishing it for myself. It holds a great deal of nostalgia for me. It was written in 4 parts. These are parts 1 and 2.

This is a section from near the end – a bit of philosophy. (nb. – I created the concept of polyverses well before Hawking!)

Not stretching, not reaching, just existing. The universe was not just a single entity in the flux of space. Time plays tricks creating infinite variety within the one. Time was lengthened and shortened in an endless series of dimensions. They all coexisted at the same point in space. In one dimension a hundred years was a fleeting second. It was because of these distortions of time that they were all separated within the same space. There was an infinite variety of infinite space and time.

Each dimension represented an empty canvas for the artist’s hand to decorate.

The artist lived and sketched for pleasure and not for gain or recognition. She created a picture that would endure using the tools stored in her memory and the skills in her metaphorical hands. It was her life’s work to create. That’s what she lived for. Creation was a necessity. Life would be unthinkable with the possibility of masterly change and the striving towards an elusive perfection.

Mind travelled the ether at will, seizing nothing and moulding it into shape and form. Worlds and whole universes were formed instantly. She had perfected her craft.

Mind always chose a few particular worlds to concentrate on populating. For some obscure reason all these intelligent beings seemed to believe the whole universe was created for their benefit. It was amusing. Mind found it quite endearing. She could not imagine why they would seek to idolise her and worship her when they were all of the same material – an illusion – a dream – a dream within a dream within a dream. 

Mind moved between her worlds enjoying the way things evolved. There was excitement at the way the creations matured and progressed, but as with all things the excitement dimmed. She grew bored and moved on to seek new inspiration. Sometimes the creatures destroyed the very thing they lived off and laid waste to all the rest of the creation – that upset her. She could not comprehend why they would do such a thing. Occasionally, in a fit of pique, she would sweep them aside and create a replacement. Some imperfections in her creations grew into irritations with their pompous arrogance and became exceedingly annoying. They simply did not develop as she had hoped.

But an artist is rarely satisfied. No canvas is ever completed – merely abandoned.

When it became too depressing she usually moved on quickly but occasionally she would introduce a new element into the theme to jazz things up and pour life into a stale or rancid construction.

Back through countless dimensions mind’s past endeavours spun and buzzed and changed as they progressed through their respective ages. Occasionally she would flick through these exhibitions of her work as one might a picture book. She always noted, and often enjoyed, the subtle changes that had occurred as her basic plans were developing into new and wondrous forms. Sometimes there were great changes to the changing aspects of her dreams that were enthralling and exciting. They never ceased to fill her with fresh inspiration. They often threw her into a fresh burst of activity and prevented any lapse into the apathy and boredom that she so often had to endure. For there were times when this existence felt completely pointless.

Mind, like everybody else, had favourites among her works of art that she would often return to. With these she would delight in throwing in a new detail and take pleasure in the confusion and chaos that her visits invariably left in their wake. Occasionally she would imagine herself up an avatar so that she could join in and participate in her creation first-hand. She would wander and live among the crowds and taste the life her thoughts had created. Then there were the multitude of other pieces that she had worked on that left her less interested, that she tended to abandon to wend their way through their existence to either degenerate or mature into something better.

In this latest creation she felt great empathy. She felt it was special. She had brought so many different elements together to create something unique. Yet she had created it without too much thought. It had been one of those spontaneous moments where consciousness did not intrude and the creativity flowed effortlessly. She had frustratedly abandoned her previous creation, which had not gone well, and this new one had come about in some kind of reflex – totally on the rebound. Somehow the lack of conscious thought, coupled with swift, deft unrestrained strokes, seemed to have resulted in a masterpiece. She could feel the electricity run through her mental faculties. It left her feeling wondrously happy.

Stranded between two realities – a section from my very first book written in 1971/3 – Reality Dreams.

Posted on by Opher

Somehow, stranded in the stillness and chaos, we live unaware of the changes and patterns we are part of.

On a warm summer’s day, with no breeze to wave the trees and no clouds to cruise the skies, there is stillness.

On a violent winter’s day, when dark clouds charge across the low ceiling of the sky, the trees bend in the wind and rain slants down to sting faces, there is movement but no pattern.

These are strange illusions that we live. We are trapped like meat in a sandwich. Only the bread is real. We are neither part of the microcosm under us with its pattern of tiny spheres and energy in frantic movement, nor included in the macrocosm with its huge orbs, crazy circles and arcing orbits that bend through the vast reaches of space. We are somewhere between the two only partially aware of either. We walk upon both and do not comprehend what we are part of at all. It is hidden from our eyes.

Yet on that summer’s day, when nothing moves, on a scale far beyond that of the human eye to appreciate, for it encompasses different scales of time and space, we move at both colossal speeds and minute tingling through two unseen universes.

Each solid mass is really shimmering before our eyes on an unseen microscopic level – each atom jiggling about a point, each molecule boogieing about. There is no stillness in that world. The water in the still pond is zipping about in mad delight as the molecules career around bouncing off each other. The air is a mass of dashing molecules of gas and careering energy, vibrating, pulsing in constant rush-hour madness.

The microcosm is as hectic as any madness on our streets. The serenity is an illusion.

On a smaller scale each atoms is a twirling mass of pulsing life. Electrons, protons and neutrons spinning, orbiting and exuding gravity, electric charge and magnetism – interacting – joining, breaking, coalescing. A screaming roar of activity so frenetic that we can only guess at it.

Inside each proton and neutron there are the quarks – so strange they are called strange, charm, upwards and downwards – so fast and full of energy that we can only guess at what they do and wonder at the power of the Higgs Boson.

All unseen and unimagined.

There is no solidity – nothing solid to hit. The distance between nuclei is, in relative terms, greater than that between the stars. The atoms would simply slip through each other with never a solid nucleus touching another, despite the zillions, if it was not for the force that repels. We are repelled by a force-field. Solidity is an illusion.

And if we were to grip a quark and pull it apart what might we find? A flash of energy or nothing?

Who can weigh a gamma ray?

The ground we look at is a cosmic dance of atoms.

We shimmer with it. Our body is alive with atomic dancing.

On the macrocosmic scale we are partnered with a grander waltz.

As we stand and stare at that sultry scene we are spinning with the Earth’s rotation at a 1000 MPH, travelling around the sun at 6,500 MPH, travelling out towards the star Vega with the expansion of our galaxy at 43,000 MPH and spinning with the Milky Way at 611,000 MPH.

It is a gavotte of arcs and spins, of corkscrew intricacy and precision that is of unimaginable speed and complexity – the dance of the gods – if only there were gods – so grand that we had to invent gods to explain its majesty.

If we were to see this pageant from afar with time speeded up what a drama of whirling form it would take – what a spectacle. If it wasn’t for the vastness of space it would produce more wondrous patterns than a giant kaleidoscope.

On this planet we would be speeding in gigantic spiralling corkscrews at inconceivable speed in a pattern to amaze for all time – trees would fall, mountains would be swept flat.

Perhaps the planets watch? And see the universe through minds that move much more slowly, so that for them humanity is a blink and the skies do tumble and spin in the grandest firework display of all time. There are no random movements here – just arc and spirals of delight.

But likewise, if we were to take an overdose of Alice’s potion and slip between the atoms, we would once again discover that the circle reigns. Spherical atoms with circling electrons interweave to create a show of grandeur illuminated by an array of energies, where even light, the straightest thing we know travels in curves.

There is no stability here, no stillness, no serenity. All is madness. All is change and movement. Paradox rules as time is stretched and energy chooses direction, electrons occupy two spaces simultaneously and the laws we live by no longer hold.

It is only here, between universes, where we live, obliviously, where the world can seem quiet and there appears to be an anarchy of jagged movement that defies the circle in its apparent chaotic disorder. Here the illusion of stability rules and anarchy is superimposed on the patterns of reality. Here the flux is unseen and straight lines appear real. Only occasionally does the circle emerge to remind us of the real nature of the universe. Here in the middle we are a law unto ourselves.

The Book I am currently editing – Reality Dreams

Posted on by Opher

This is a section of the book that I am currently editing. It was the first book that I ever wrote. I started it back in 1971.

I am rewriting/editing it for my own satisfaction. I will publish it shortly in a fit of nostalgia. It is a weird one. It is called Reality Dreams.

I’d like to know what you think?

The moon still hung as a complete orb in the sky, racing through the hazy clouds and every now and then disappearing altogether as it played ‘hide-and-seek’ behind the curtains. On the distant horizon of the domed canopy of sky was revealed a curve as the first fingers of crimson flame were clawing at the skyline sending drapes of orange and mauve to stain the heavens and send warning to the darker hues that the sun was about to rear its head above the ground.

Rapidly the darkness was being driven back from the sultry hills to crawl into crevices before being forced underground once more. That inky blackness was oozing back from the sky, and all the land, to seep back to its daytime lair; streaming organically from everything that was, to briefly accumulate in pools and ragged shadows before retreating. Skeletal trees remained silhouetted in the darkest pitch against the vivid colours of the brightening sky as symbols of a last defiance, still shouting out that darkness has its beauty too, their sharp images contrasting against the heavens in a futile battle as light flooded the world bringing its warmth and colour and giving life. For without the sun nothing lives.

The frost that swaddled the land in a brittle film of crystalline icing sugar immediately began to melt as if in welcoming delight as the first warmth hit. The hills and rolling landscape began to slowly warm with those first delicate rays and give forth their own radiance with all the passion of nature’s own heather mauves and bracken green in an unmatched impressionist masterpiece. As the frost thawed the foliage was left with a million glistening globes of dew each mirroring a tiny reflection of the eye of the sun creating a panorama of sparkling beads in an array of nature’s diamonds.

On the gorse the spiders sat in quiet frustration as their days work is displayed for all to see – and avoid, as a perfectly arranged string of pearls, waiting for the sun to do its work and dry their efforts back to invisibility.

The hills are silent except for the chatter of birds, singing from the highest branches to lay claim to all they survey, and the babble of the brooks as they tumble and splash across the rocks.

The day world has slept while the more ephemeral world of night has acted out its part. Yet each reawakening is different. Everything is rehoused with a new coat of paint and fresh memories with which to ponder the lives that never were.

The solitude is broken by the tremor of a new sound which rises incongruously on the crisp morning air. It is the swishing of legs through the vegetation and the fall of feet on the soil. The faint drumming sends a quiver through the ground that alerts all creatures. They listen and scent the air for the breath of a predator on the breeze.

On the horizon a new figure lopes into view standing out in the desolate landscape and making no attempt to conceal himself. It is a solitary man running with a steady gait through the undergrowth, effortlessly following the trails left by nature across the virgin hills. He bounds over rough terrain from hillock to hillock, his arms spread as he leaps, delighting in the freedom of his body.

Despite the cold, rivulets of sweat trickle down his face and are sprayed into the air as he jumps and silently exclaims. He is alive. It is a new day and a good day to be alive.

He pauses on the brow of a hill to survey the dawn. Gentle wisps of vapour rise from his body and his breath puffs out clouds that hang in the air like steam from a train. Then he races on with muscles, sliding, pulling and powering like well-oiled pistons, energy flowing in an unending stream and brain singing with chemistry.

His skin was flushed with the delight of life and his face was fixed into a permanent orgasmic mask. His waist-length hair flowed out in his wake, rippling in the air as it streamed after him in its attempt to keep pace.

From a distance his graceful movements seemed to make him glide across the hills in a lazy, even pace, up and down and along without effort.

His naked feet and legs rejected the attacks of the coarse vegetation and hard ground. They were leathery and tanned and grown used to such abuse. There was little that disturbed them greatly and they seemed to have a mind of their own as they avoided the worst of the danger.

Messny was alive. His body was an organic machine in harmony with the environment around him. His racing had taken him in a huge circle during which he had surveyed hundreds of square miles of land with that first light of day. He had breathed in the nascent air, dreamed the strength of the land and sucked it in. He wanted to not only be alive but to feel it.

He returned, deep of breath, but not tired. His morning circuit had left him reinvigorated. He had breathed the spirit of the land and pronounced himself a part of it.

With a countenance of satisfaction he bathed the sweat from his body in the tingling waters of an icy stream.

He had wakened to a new day – a strong day.

Reality Dreams – Book 2 – A Surreal Sixties extravaganza of mysticism, social commentary and poems.

Posted on by Opher

This is part 3 of my Reality Dreams book. I started writing this when I was twenty years old back in 1969. They were heady days and still fermenting in my mind.

This is the beginning of my rewrite.

Let me know what you think?

Part 3

The Earth

The Earth is a planet in our solar system. It is exceptionally important to us because we have crawled from the mud of its seas to grow legs and walk. We have used our eyes to see, our hands to build and our brains to think. Apart from the hugely amazing event of the evolution of life the planet is unexceptional.

We have developed a society with the express purpose of fulfilling our needs and helping each other. Our cities are hives of activity in which commerce and trade couple with industrial production to produce a standard and quality of life. Our society has a trade-off – it has developed materialism as a reward for boredom and enslavement. We prostitute ourselves for a standard of possessions and comfort.

We know it is not a fair distribution of wealth or an equitable return for our effort or capabilities. There is no universal system. There are great divides. We have created an elite who live in luxury. Stronger societies prey on weaker societies to steal their resources.

We have limited compassion for the suffering of people a long distance away – suffering that is the direct result of our actions.

We have no regard for the limited resources or beauty of our planet. We are prepared to reduce our planet to trash, and with it the quality of our own lives, for a quick buck and a healthy economy. The addiction to consumerism, jag of possessions and pursuit of comfort have taken the place of real happiness and relationship. Society points forward in a giddy spiraling descent towards a concrete and plastic, air-conditioned nightmare.

Yet for our planet, with all its billions of people in their sprawling civilizations, this is merely an interlude. We humans exist as a temporary inconvenience. In a few million years we will be totally forgotten. We will have been surpassed by something better that nature has produced. Our destructiveness merely clears the way for the future. The scab of humanity will heal and the pus we leave behind will be cleansed. That is the way of nature.

We can but hope that out of our greed and selfishness a small number of sane people will develop into spiritual harmony with nature and survive to create something better.

I’m an Indie writer. I write what other writers don’t dare. I write what is in my head.

My books are available on Amazon in paperback and digital formats. They are world-wide!

In the UK you might like to browse through on my link below: For overseas visitors please refer to your local Amazon. You’ll find me there.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Opher-Goodwin/e/B00MSHUX6Y/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1475747471&sr=1-2-ent

In the USA:

In the USA – https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=opher+goodwin

Here’s a few selected titles:

Rock Music

  1. The Blues Muse – the story of Rock music through the eyes of the man with no name who was there through it all.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Blues-Muse-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1518621147/ref=la_B00MSHUX6Y_1_6?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1475748276&sr=1-6

2. In Search of Captain Beefheart – The story of one man’s search for the best music from the fifties through to now.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Search-Captain-Beefheart-Opher-Goodwin-ebook/dp/B00TQ1E9ZG/ref=la_B00MSHUX6Y_1_5?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1475748276&sr=1-5

Science Fiction

1. Ebola in the Garden of Eden – a tale of overpopulation, government intrigue and a disaster that almost wipes out mankind, warmed by the humanity of children.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Ebola-Garden-Eden-Opher-Goodwin-ebook/dp/B0116VXVIY/ref=la_B00MSHUX6Y_1_19?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1475749570&sr=1-19

2. Green – A story set in the future where pollution is destroying the planet and factions of the Green Party have different solutions – a girl is born with no nervous system.

Kindle & Paperback versions:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Green-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1500741221/ref=sr_1_10?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1413306641&sr=1-10&keywords=opher+goodwin

The Environment

1. Anthropocene Apocalypse – a detailed memoir of the destruction taking place all over the globe with views on how to deal with it.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Anthropocene-Apocalypse-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1502427079/ref=sr_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1413306641&sr=1-4&keywords=opher+goodwin

Education

  1. A passion for Education – A Headteacher’s story – The inside story of how to teach our children properly.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/passion-Education-story-Headteacher/dp/1502445867/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1413306641&sr=1-1&keywords=opher+goodwin

There are many more – why not give them a go! You’ll love them!

 

Reality Dreams – Book 2 – The introduction.

Posted on by Opher

As if I haven’t got enough on my plate at the moment I have slowly started rewriting/typing up the second book of my first effort – Reality Dreams.

I have completed Reality Dreams – Book 1. That is sitting for a while until I have a more objective mind to edit it. This is the second one. I cannot remember much about it at all except that it had the same format of poems, cartoons, sketches and weirdness all mixed up together into a collage that was very typically sixties. It mixed spirituality, mysticism, science, Sci-fi and stories.

I will see how it goes.

This is the intro that I have just written:

Introduction

This is the second book of the Sixties Book that I started writing in 1967. It is a concept of its time – a meandering surreal experience of naïve mysticism and metaphysics.

What a weird mixture – a concoction of imagination – an outpouring from the mind of an overstimulated youth whose head was full to bursting with ideas that had to come out – a mind that was balanced on the summit of a tsunami of youth culture as it crashed its way around the world on an avalanche of psychedelic invective. This was the Sixties and it reverberated. I was tuned in. This is what emerged.

I am resurrecting it.

This book has spent the last forty years sitting as a typewritten manuscript on my shelf. I’m liberating it.

My books are available on Amazon in paperback and digital formats. They are world-wide!

In the UK you might like to browse through on my link below: For overseas visitors please refer to your local Amazon. You’ll find me there.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Opher-Goodwin/e/B00MSHUX6Y/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1475747471&sr=1-2-ent

In the USA:

In the USA – https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=opher+goodwin

Here’s a few selected titles:

Rock Music

  1. The Blues Muse – the story of Rock music through the eyes of the man with no name who was there through it all.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Blues-Muse-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1518621147/ref=la_B00MSHUX6Y_1_6?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1475748276&sr=1-6

2. In Search of Captain Beefheart – The story of one man’s search for the best music from the fifties through to now.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Search-Captain-Beefheart-Opher-Goodwin-ebook/dp/B00TQ1E9ZG/ref=la_B00MSHUX6Y_1_5?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1475748276&sr=1-5

Science Fiction

1. Ebola in the Garden of Eden – a tale of overpopulation, government intrigue and a disaster that almost wipes out mankind, warmed by the humanity of children.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Ebola-Garden-Eden-Opher-Goodwin-ebook/dp/B0116VXVIY/ref=la_B00MSHUX6Y_1_19?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1475749570&sr=1-19

2. Green – A story set in the future where pollution is destroying the planet and factions of the Green Party have different solutions – a girl is born with no nervous system.

Kindle & Paperback versions:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Green-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1500741221/ref=sr_1_10?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1413306641&sr=1-10&keywords=opher+goodwin

The Environment

1. Anthropocene Apocalypse – a detailed memoir of the destruction taking place all over the globe with views on how to deal with it.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Anthropocene-Apocalypse-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1502427079/ref=sr_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1413306641&sr=1-4&keywords=opher+goodwin

Education

  1. A passion for Education – A Headteacher’s story – The inside story of how to teach our children properly.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/passion-Education-story-Headteacher/dp/1502445867/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1413306641&sr=1-1&keywords=opher+goodwin

There are many more – why not give them a go! You’ll love them!