I remember being a teenager reading Jack London.
To say I was moved would be an understatement of galactic proportions.
Yes, Jack London’s body of work would be classified as action/adventure, I suppose. But not to me. To me, Jack London’s Naturalist writing style blew me away. To my developing mind, Jack London wrote thriller books.
I was a voracious bookworm when I was growing up, into my teen years, and on to young adulthood. I read everything.
Jack London was at the center of my reading. As a kid and young man, Jack London propelled my mind into an imagination universe from which I’ve never wished to depart from.
I believe the powerful dynamism Jack London’s masterful writing unleashed in my mind gave formation to the Singularity of my creative energy.
My Creative Singularity is a gigantic vacuum within my conscious observance wherein I craft and fashion my vision of existence—non-fiction and fiction.
My thriller books are at the center of my creativity.
My thriller books awaken the full spectrum of my pleasure/pain connection.
Regardless of the setting of my thriller books, the stories contained in their pages transcend the earthly, reaching into the far reaches of our solar system. Through word visions and creative force, I sense the emptiness of space and perceive the depths of the human experience. Within my Creative Singularity, pulverized with emotional content and romantic inspiration, I hear the words and see the actions of the characters, and a story is told.
The characters, places, and events that exist within my thriller books provide my soul euphoric pleasure.
Likewise, the characters, places, and events that exist within my thriller booksinflict agonizing emotional pain.
As I sit at my work desk and create my thriller books, I live, and die, within each page.
Photos: Alfons Morales, Florian Klauer, Baltazar Bolado