In the Podiatrist’s Dental Chair
For more than a decade I paid Doctor Carey to work on my teeth whenever one or more of them caused me pain in the form of toothache.
I finished writing The Life of Henry Fuckit almost 20 years ago. Two publishers rejected the manuscript, and I was left feeling humiliated and seriously wounded. After a while it occurred to me that the gatekeepers were too dumb to appreciate Henry, and what was needed was something for them to look at instead of just reading a whole lot of text that was beyond them.
I commissioned a young graphic artist to draw 50 pictures based on incidents in the story. It was then that I thought of inviting all and sundry to join the illustrative process, and the Minds-I-Book project got underway. With the assistance of my daughter and son, a website was designed and saw the light of day in 2014. Unfortunately, the project never took off, and, discouraged, I added it to my list of failed enterprises.
The website remains open for inspection, and anyone wishing to contribute to the gallery is still welcome to do so. The Minds-I-Book can be found here.
To view my longer pieces, you can find me on Smashwords here.
This is my writer's blog and it's a pleasure to have your company. You’ll see that the site is designed to showcase my writing.
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Read MoreFor more than a decade I paid Doctor Carey to work on my teeth whenever one or more of them caused me pain in the form of toothache.
We arrived in Joburg on Friday 17 May 2024, and returned to Pearly Beach on Monday the 27th of the same month and year, which makes the trip an 11-day odyssey.
In my early twenties I went on a mission to take a drink in every bar in Cape Town.
We do not inherit the Earth; we borrow it from future generations.
The relative who died was my wife's youngest of two sisters.
Two weeks after the Cardiac Ablation, which was supposed to correct my Atrial Flutter, I experienced a mild attack, and then, about ten days later, a more serious episode that lasted for over two hours.