by Mike DiCerto
I dabbled in film for ten years, writing and directing numerous shorts, documentaries and a feature film as well as writing screenplays that sat in the oft-cited development hell. But only in the novel have I found true bliss. I need to swim in Technicolor waters, fly through rainbow clouds and traverse Seussian roads lined with Carrolesque mushrooms and McKenna-like elves. Freedom-filled roads where the air has the cotton candy smell of childish innocence but is spiced with a healthy pinch of dystopic cynicism. And most importantly, where the air is soaked with music—preferably the powerful and wondrous chords of Led Zeppelin, Yes, Pink Floyd and the rest of the Rock and Roll pantheon.
To write is to seek. To seek is to hope to one day find an ounce of Truth that may be transmuted into a vaccine—an inoculation to cure the psychosis that has diseased mankind since Og learned he could kill Oog with the thighbone of a gazelle and steal his wife and property. To write is to escape. To write is to find bliss. To write is love. And when you find love and bliss—there is no need to kill your neighbor with the thighbone of a gazelle. You realize that the real riches in life are at the tips of your fingers and a thought away, not in oil fields.
I have been blessed with that bliss in the confines of my one-bedroom apartment with my wife, Suzy; two cats, Thumper and Nana, and the endless tales within my skull."
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