Hello there, grasshoppers. Who am I? Well, really, who is anyone? But before we get into the Sybil and the fantastic fourteen hundred personalities philosophical entertainment, let’s pause and simplify.
First person or third, aye, there’s the Rubicon.
First it is, then – a little cosiness goes a long way.
I’m an Australian writer if you’re interested in borders, and what jingoistic patriot isn’t?
I’ve been writing in a more or less seriously applied mode, with ample time out for silliness and mirth, for around 20 years plus change, along with an adolescence and teenagerhood filled with exercise pads full of bad poetry (later disposed of in Mum’s backyard incinerator in the event which became known as The Great Conflagration and Wailing on Victoria Place).
But back to mirth, just because I like the word. You remember mirth – I have of late, but wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth. Hamlet (Act 2, Scene 2), as though you couldn’t guess – he’s about as cheerful as Marvin, the manically depressed robot from The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, one of the greatest little novels, and radio and TV series, ever made (not sure about the film, though). And those two references tell you something – goodness or badness knows what – about my interests and why this web site is called Transient Total Focus.
I write in a range of genres, but my primary focus is on novels and encouraging the characters who dwell within them, and to whom I have leased valuable narrative space, to do interesting and even – god forbid – page-turning things.
I also write poetry because it’s short. The differences between a novelist and a poet (and other writers of shorter forms), apart from everything, are pretty much like the differences between a marathon runner and a sprinter, but they also have a lot in common: they each possess special skills, of which they are deservedly proud; they train hard and strive for excellence, or a lusciously large and rewarding contract, including golden shoes – whichever comes first; and they like to wear colorful tracksuits over their numbered underwear – also, not unlike writers. You can read my free – yes, free – poetry at Veranda Life and Zen Kettle.
If you’d like to offer me one of those luscious, large and yes, lovely aforementioned contracts (golden keyboard preferred), or you’d just like to say hello to a fellow grasshopper and blinker, contact me here: jay(at)jayverney.net. You can also use the Contact page and offer your opinions about this and that – please try to use a variety of nouns, verbs and assorted adjectives – we’re quite inclusive here at TTF.
Here is a picture of my dear little cat, Dotty, whose stunning visage will surely enhance the enjoyment of your day. (She’s in half-face mode for your protection, as viewing her entire dial without warning has been known to cause attacks of the vapors in the susceptible due to her unsurpassed beauty).
Small cat, half-time