And there it happened. Sitting in a small innocuous restaurant in Prague I realised that I am Rachael was more then the title of the book I had yet to pen. It was an actual reflection of how I felt.
Who am I? What am I?
I hadn’t thought to that point to write under a pseudonym. It wasn’t the plan. But, as I gorged Steven Kings book ‘On Writing’, a recommendation from only the week before, I realised – whoever I was, if my soul was to be bared, my thoughts offered up for sacrifice, my integrity, creative skill or lack there of shared on a galactic scale, I should rather find out in secret.
Well secret, I tell anyone I meet. But sometimes anonymity grants you certain distance. From the comments you welcome, but more importantly the ones you don’t.
So now I am Rachel too! Albeit, I have lived longer then the granted 4 years, I never met my Deckard and live in a time when we relish real creatures in abundance – for how much longer we do not know.
These musings are in part soul searching, part political conjecture, part annoyance about the here and now, part musings on the journey itself and plenty of relish (dystopian generally) in what is to come.
Sci fi I love you. This is my contribution.
N R Rosen