The best unknown Canadian writer I ever knew left me these manuscripts when he passed away.
a portrait of the author, Robert Thompson, by me
When There Were Tigers by Rocky Green
I fiddle with this story off and on. I always lived alongside writers and just as they’d tend to take up a sketchbook after a while with me, I’d write, to understand mechanics and the tempo of our days and to have something to submit for discussion. The story is a murder mystery of sorts, more concerned with notions of justice and suspicions than with the attainment of justice. I’m working on it. For some reason I like to work on this on line. Keeps me humble.
The Hasteners, speculative fiction by Rocky Green
This writing is dark, I suppose, though I take great joy from writing it , more than I did from painting this past long winter. This takes journal form, sometime after the apocalypse. Few survive to build lives and those who do are torn between holding to past ways and values and cutting loose as entirely from the obsolete as they can do. Neither way is perfectly achievable. This book looks at love in the same interstitial place.
I’ve password protected this while I cut and paste and tinker but if you are curious ask for access at firstname.lastname@example.org.