This is a first, in many ways. It’s the first novel I completed in six years since I finally managed to end Night on Earth in 2004, the first I’ve written in English right from the start, the second I've completed solely on the computer and the first in my personal genre of something I call Existential Horror. You decide what it is. I don’t know when the next book in that «genre» will be written. Perhaps never.
I would suggest you ignore both words and look at both of them simultaneously, as a whole. That would be or might be somewhat helpful.
My other novels have always been read by others prior to publication, people providing valuable input and contributing their insight in whatever subject they desired.
This is the first without any external input whatsoever. Here I can safely say that one hundred percent of the book is mine. There has been no proofreading by anyone, not even a glimpse of the story for anyone… except myself. It was an approach I decided upon early on, in an effort to make the book even more different from my previous books and every other out there.
And equally interesting: it’s the first novel I’ve written where the main characters aren’t both demonic and idealistic versions of myself, clearly a major change in approach. Some of them have my knowledge and skills, of course, but they are basically made from scratch.
I’ve always strived to be original, for my books to not even resemble any other books and I know I’ve succeeded. This is even more a step further in that regard. If my other books are special, are «far out there» (and they are)… this one is even more so…
While I’ve strived to have a certain consistency in my previous novels, to have connecting dots and logic and coherence and logically composed connections between scenes, I have kind of made an effort to not have those things here. And while there is a certain internal logic, there is one quite different from what you might expect.
It isn’t at all what you expect.
It never is.
All my books become something quite different from what they appear at first, but in this one that effect is far more pronounced. You might think you know what is going on at any given part of the story, but you would probably be very much mistaken.
I wrote three possible blurbs and story descriptions during and after I completed the book twenty-three months ago. They are fairly good descriptions of parts of the book, but none of them can be said to cover its total, complete story. In those twenty-three months I’ve made repeated attempts at writing a fourth blurb covering it all, in vain and have sort of given up, at least at this point.
I will use all three off and on, at various settings.
Story descriptions usually come fairly easy to me these nights and have for a number of years after I first managed to overcome an initial resistance to it, but not on this one. It’s okay, really. The story is and was supposed to be not easily grasped from I first started out on its vast labyrinth.
It is a story, even one making sense to me, slowly, as I was writing it, but I am the author. I know where the shoe drops and the flower grows and the hidden lake flows.
People reading it will really have to dig deep to find something to hold on to. A friend of mine has called this my psychotic novel, a description as good as any. And he hasn’t read a single word either, just listened to my descriptions of the story and the methodology behind it.
Will there be some kind of understanding, a glimpse behind the veil of rationality in the end? Perhaps, perhaps not. There will be a journey, somewhat enjoyable, with a kind of reason and rhyme, whether or not the end is the beginning or the end. You may experience illumination, you may not. When you close the book and sit there sweating hard after having completed it, you may breathe a sigh of relief, and be comforted, telling yourself that the jigsaw puzzle that is existence, is reality, is the world makes sense.
But probably not.
Good luck with that.