I started this in November 2015 and raced to ten thousand words. Then I hit a stumbling block and took a whole two years off it. Now I’m back on it and up to fifteen thousand words. I intend it to be a length of only twenty thousand words or so, so I’ve almost nearly finished. It’s nice to settle into a nice long novel of eighty thousand words plus, but I’ve always maintained that novels are too long. A novella has the potential to be better. A novella is a novel distilled, with all the boring filler parts removed. A novella is all the good segments and nothing else.
It’s about a man who is being harassed by a satellite. The capabilities of satellites in the modern age are astounding, and I wanted to touch upon this. This book may read like science-fiction, but it might also be the realest most down-to-earth thing I’ve ever penned. It’s based entirely on truth. It deals primarily with psychosis, a much misunderstood concept, but it also delves into the second coming of Jesus Christ. My previous novel Escaping Hazel had a significant religious dimension, so I don’t want to dwell on Jesus too much in this, but he is involved to some extent. There is also a Muslim element too, for balance.
It’s a conspiracy book, in effect. There’s a little bit of science in it. I’m a bit grieved at keeping it short, because half of me wanted to make it long and epic, but the main purpose is getting my point across, and that I feel will not take too much more writing. Short and digestible is the key. I’m proud to admit that this is a story that people will learn something from. It’s ever-so-slightly educational because it emanates from years of my own study and research. In a sense, it’s not even fiction. It’s cold hard facts dressed up as fiction.
Experiencing psychosis has been a horrific experience for me personally. The last four years have been riddled with it. It feels nice to candy-wrap all my hardships in a booklet of literature and present it to the world. Without writing, I’m not sure how I would cope. It would all be stuck up inside my head with no offload outage to disseminate from. That might drive me cuckoo and provoke me to release it via acts of bizarreness or dare I say it even violence. Our emotions come to the fore in mysterious ways. Writing keeps me grounded. It channels my subconscious in healthy positive pathways. I can focus my life into a selection of prearranged words on paper. I can deal with things. Even though I’m not famous, I can regard A Satellite For Me as my next big release. It’s exciting, when you are your own biggest fan. You have to be, when nobody else is. Writing is like downloading words from the ether; it’s like conjuring an alternate lifespan from the cosmos. All you can do best is live in it, for a short while, until it is finished. And thus, once done, one moves onto something else.