I began as a reporter in the Orwellian year of 1984. My first novel is about the end of the world. But I try to look on the bright side…
I live in Brisbane, Australia, with my wife and two daughters…
I’m into swimming, a decent walk, occasionally losing balls on a golf course and all manner of paranormal oddity. I’m a lover of both kinds of music — rock and jazz — and recently got back together with my old band from the ’80s, The Filberts.
Almost but not quite lost deep in the desert, driving a camper van too fast along a corrugated dirt track and afraid my life might be about to end suddenly in a cloud of blood and dust, I started to hear that voice...
The one that holds my sort to ransom, that wakes me in the middle of the night and drives fingers to keyboards despite all rational argument to the contrary.
Chasing the fading sound of that voice across a pitch-black desert is a journey of wonderful discovery punctuated with moments of bone-crushing trepidation when the trail vanishes without warning.
The trick is to pretend not to listen. Then the call grows louder.
Science loves the rational and cares not that fiction loves the fantastic.
Making them meet is like forcing together two repelling magnets.
The gap between them becomes more impossible the smaller it gets.
But sometimes, when they’re almost touching, magic happens.