The White Feathered Octopus

In 2011, I wrote a book, when I was laid up with sciatica, a series of essays inter-weaving my autobiography into a sci-fi novel. 

The White Feathered Octopus. This book talks about the gritty hard realties of growing up a blinded street beggar in Cairo, 1937, as if a mutant midwifed counterclockwise to the distant jauntpads of Rocketcityutopia. It is a science fiction novel, written from one giant cryptographic anagram of Herman Melville's Moby Dick. Not for the faint of heart! Read it if you dare. An erotic experiment in Philikdicking ones own mind back from the brink of madness and disability a biography of lowdown heights, back alley knife fights, and cold uptown delights, the whole while you have the sinking feeling that this all might not actually be happening, as if you are a chess piece on a scrabble board. In other words, prepared to have your Mind Blown! Can you Get to That?