Welcome to my abode! Enter freely of your own will, but do leave behind your preconceptions and prejudices, get rid of any prudishness and petulance. If you insist, you can always pick them up when you depart. For now, sit back and relax. Pour yourself a glass of your favourite drink. Light up the herb of your choice. I will do my best to entertain, shock and confound you. Take you to places and show you emotions you didn’t even know existed. Make you question everything you’ve ever been taught and turn your perception of the world on its head. But don’t fret. Trust me, it’s all make-believe in here. You do trust me, don’t you?
What can I tempt you with?
How about my novels? Thrillers set in Southeast Asia, as seen through the eyes of foreigners, with plots that explore the sense of dislocation and detachment that even locals sometimes feel. Every place visited in the novels exists and is familiar to me. Just like every character, no matter how outrageous, is based on someone I know or have met. My only claim to originality, I admit, is juxtaposing and mixing real locations and characters (and not least strange local practices) with bizarre situations originating in my mind. If you’ve read any of John Burdett’s Bangkok novels, or Nick Seeley’s Cambodia Noir, you’ll know what I mean.
If you’re after a quick fix, you may prefer to check out some of my stories, all of them true. Well, sort of. Scary, funny, or downright disturbing, they document my exploration of the globe as much as my subconscious. I’ve experienced them all, either in real life or in my nightmares.
For immediate gratification, may I suggest a few samples of my poems? I know, poetry is a dying art and very much an acquired taste nowadays, not unlike opera or oysters. Maybe because it’s mostly practiced by clueless people with artistic aspirations exceeding their abilities, pretending to disdain both metre and rhyme while, in reality, they wouldn’t be able to spell either, let alone apply them. I’m a firm believer and adherent to the rigid rules and structures of classical poetry when it comes to rhyming, syllables, and stanzas. When combined with contemporary themes and occasionally risqué language, I find it irresistible. Do read the poetry of Kingsley Amis. Or savour John Wilmot’s (that old rascal, the Earl of Rochester) inimitable poems, such as Signior Dildo.
If you can take my take on anything that takes my fancy, take a look at my rantings. In addition to literature in all its forms I have definite views on most subjects, ranging from thoughts on food and alcoholic beverages to stripping a Harley engine, growing your own chillies, and other non-controversial subjects such as religion, politics and gender issues. You are welcome to comment on my comments, on which I may or may not comment.
Be aware though that I regularly think, converse, write and dream in both English and Swedish, and may do so here when you least expect me to. Sometimes also in other languages, if I deem that the situation requires it. Let Google Translate be your friend while you’re here and I’ll try to stick to one language at the time.
About
“Before he decided to share his writings with us, Nenad had truly experienced the world. While still sixteen, he worked as a bouncer in an illegal club in Ulaanbaatar. This was where he discovered his love of poetry and started writing poems about the stunningly beautiful and sexy Bactrian camels roaming the Mongolian plain. Prior to that, he was a shark wrangler in Nauru, having trained the local reef sharks to gently bite his arm and thus provide unique photo opportunities for all of the twelve visiting Japanese divers. While in Nauru, Nenad also had time to read the collected works of Sartre and felt that there was something missing. In his own words, in the 749 page long critique, still astonishingly unpublished, he summarised it well: ‘I don’t think Sartre ever felt true pain.’ Even earlier, Nenad was trying to pinpoint the precise reason for the collective angst of mankind, having written his first one-page psychological thriller, The Pig in the Casket, at the tender age of six. He is undoubtedly the most influential author and philosopher since Plato and my only wish is for more people to read his manuscripts.”
– Angus Hocking, Horsell Daily Shredder (intern, 4 – 6 July 2016)
Maybe not. Let’s try again:
Before embarking on a writing career in the hope that he will finally manage to hold on to a job, Nenad has, throughout his confused life, tried his hand at being a grumpy pizzaiolo; a failed car painter; a tone-deaf singer and inept keyboard player; a distracted motorcycle mechanic; a reasonably successful but regularly unsatisfied project manager; as well as numerous other jobs, some of them even paid.
And finally – before you leave satisfied, horrified, elated, disgusted, frustrated, tempted or intrigued, do tell me about it. That’s what the Contact page is for.
Enjoy!
Nenad