The mighty King Suriya, of Brava, where the strongest rules, must find a way to defeat the cunning King of vultures, if he is to make it back to his kingdom in one piece. The King of the vultures has other plans.
A novella about life and death, strength and weakness, man and vulture.
A short story about a lonely guy who loses his only friend in the whole world, his dog Hendrix, and realizes that the system has ruined his life. The system might have taken his happiness but there's one thing he won't let the system take; Hendrix.
I am a storyteller. Actually, we all are storytellers, aren't we? We tell stories through words, sounds and visuals. We tell stories when we create art, when we gossip, even when we cook food! We tell stories all the time and we like to hear stories. Storytelling sets us apart from all other life forms on earth. Well, maybe birds tell stories too. That's why they are always chirping away.
But I digress. I'm telling you about myself. I love storytelling so much that I'm always making up stories. Some people call it lying. I like to create characters based on these people and then have them killed off in my stories. People are always dying in my stories. Maybe I'm obsessed with death. Or maybe it's life that I'm obsessed with. Because what is life but a preparation for death.
But I digress. I used to work as a marine engineer on cargo ships. It was interesting, to say the least. A part of it was working on huge machines that were so old that they had developed personalities. Most of them were pretty rude but so would you if you were locked in an iron compartment under the sea for all of your life. I didn't much care about this part. The other part was to sail the seas and visit new places and eat new food. I liked this part. Soon I became aware that I didn't really want to be a marine engineer, I wanted to be a traveler. An explorer. So I quit sailing and became a writer, cooped up in a small room. It doesn't make sense, I know. But neither does life. There isn't much sense in this universe at all.
But I digress. I decided to chase my dream. Pursue my passion. So I quit my job and became a writer. After 6 years of doing this, I can safely say that it was a good decision. It was foolish for sure, but also good. Often I think of how much money I would have made by now if I had continued to sail but no amount of money can ever make up for the freedom of being your own boss. To be fair, the downside of being your own boss is that you get the worst employee ever. But there's a downside to everything, isn't there?
But I digress again. As you can see, I digress a lot. It's an occupational hazard. So before I digress anymore, let me tell you that I write mostly speculative fiction. In other words, fantasy, sci-fi, magical realism and other names given to this type of writing. Sometimes I also write satire and tragedy hidden under the mask of comedy. I think they call it tragicomedy. But that implies a story that is both tragic and comic, like a clown getting hit by a car or a man getting hit by a clown car and that's not what I write. So maybe I need to come up with a new word for what I write. That's never a good sign for a wannabe author. If you can't tell your agent which genre you write in, you probably will never have an agent. I see that I've digressed again.
So this is it, I'm going to end this "about" section now. Stop reading this page. This page is finished. It's done for. There's no hope left for this page. I have no more to write. Seriously, stop reading!