AS IF WE: Part 2

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GEM Beach 01

It is as if we are the infinite source of ourselves. To say we are asleep or dead to this is the understatement of all time. Hence the strange influence of the unborn to whom we are the seed. When I set out to write novels I had no idea the entire future was trying to get my attention. In time it became obvious that my imaginary characters were real, sometimes entering my life with mind-stunning force of multifarious improbabilities.

This fictional tale is a crucible in which higher creative energies have played. I started it in 1966 and within six weeks hit a wall with the disaster at Aberfan, where a coal-tip avalanched destroying a school and 116 children. There are so many similarities to the event: a place called Abertown protected by a giant Avalanche Chute; the story and I becoming paralysed two days before the disaster because of the children who would die in an avalanche of black, oily mud. I struggled on with the book until 1968 then gave up in a sea of even greater improbabilities around a ‘vision’ of ‘God’. I learned that imagined war fed real war and saw such writers as the carrion crows of human extinction. I thought the book unfinishable. Then in 2012/13, through the accumulated ^?^wisdom^!^ of 46 years, I completed it. It’s the same story, even to the opening sneeze (ten years before Douglas Adams went public:). Now I have the confidence to know that, though it is fiction, and though nothing like it may ever happen, it is true. Above what is written in this story giants are dancing.

I now know that the energy field of imaginative writing is the same energy field which extends to the spacetime limits of the universe and possibly beyond, to the infinite of infinites. Though they play out on a smaller stage of a future time the characters in this story stand on the laser line of infinite gods. When you’ve read it and lived with it for a little or a long time inside you, you might have your own reasons to agree. I’ve shown you some of my reasons and there are many more and I’m sure the magical play of this story field has not ended.

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