Items related to The End
With the world at its current state, this could easily be the book of this decade.
"synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title.
From the Author:
The inspiration for my book, " The End", had to wait until I was incensed. Like some food ingredient, it had to wait for the right state of mind and right situation. And to this day, I still believe I was set up by some Superior Being.
It had to wait till I was cheesed off, having been unfairly bundled out of some job. It also had to wait for an old dilapidated, pentium two, laptop handed down to me by a friend from Switzerland who happened to need a script writer. He had taken random shots for a documentary he was trying to make about slum life in Kenya from the eyes of some young ghetto kids. He knew very little English and scriptwriting and I needed some money. So some mutual friend hooked us up.
But " The End" had to wait for one more ingredient. Fury! And it came knocking promptly. Things in my life were not going on well. It was like life was an eagle closing in and I was the rabbit. Years earlier my dad died under my care, in some foreign land, while undergoing a kidney transplant. His death resulted in my first job." A job I worked 18 hours a day. I was a beekeeper by night, helping out my clients and a loan officer by day, ensuring the beehives on loan were getting paid for. I later figured I was chopping and very little chips were falling. But That was not enough to generate the fury needed!
Earlier in 1997, while still a campus student, I had written a movie script, which got made into a movie starring a famous rapper. But I got neither credit nor pay for it. Being a naïve new writer, I had skipped the copyright part and sent it to some "random director" by email. I wrote another one but bungled the option deal trying to negotiate the deal myself. I had not yet read that getting into the doors of Hollywood is the most important step for any budding screenwriter. I wrote a third one which made it to some script hot list in LA then it died there. But that did not get me furious enough! The incident was yet to come.
One day my girlfriend came in very late. It was the first time in our 5 year relationship that this had happened and for some strange reason I got pretty enraged. This resulted in some long drawn out argument in the still of the night. The next morning I found my self awake at 3am and still irate over the matter. That morning, like some forsaken man, I cried out to my Creator and asked him what my purpose in this world was! Sorry, I believe in a Creator! But that should not put you off if you believe otherwise. We're going to establish the truth soon!
Anyway, back to my tale. That day it seemed to me everything was going black despite my efforts to turn them white.
Well, that very morning, out of anger, I started writing random sentences on the old laptop. I was still dressed lightly, turning my random thoughts in sentences on notepad, when it dawned. The spelling was whack if any! But I didn't care. If this was going to cool me down then so be it. I did not have money to go for a drink at the local pub! Neither was knocking and breaking things an option!
But the writing did not stop in the morning. My girlfriend woke up, looked at me frantically typing on the couch in my bathrobe; didn't say a word; got ready and left for work and came back in the evening and found me in the same position. I hadn't gotten up to bathe, nor wear more clothing. I might have gotten up and visited the toilet or taken a snack but I can't remember spending more than ten minutes away from the typing. For the next 5 days I woke up at 3am and typed till 9pm. And all that time I was typing random thoughts. Just the same way someone in a bad spat would blubber randomly just to incense the other party.
All this time I was either wrapped in a towel or dressed lightly . On the 7th day I took a break. My girlfriend was now getting pretty worried. We had barely talked much that week. All she saw was my writing frenzy. I think she felt I was writing something to conclude our relationship. But she was afraid of mentioning anything. Here was a mad man she loved. Had she peeped at it that time, she would have concluded that I had gone nuts and called in my family. Come to think of it! Had she read done that, I would now be holed up in some mental institution trying to convince everyone that the world was ending! Maybe I should be renamed "John The Baptist", rather than John Lerrato. Wasn't he the one that preached naked!
On the 8th day I almost lost it. I looked at what I had written and become really paranoid. In my mind what I had written was so heavy and powerful that I began begging God not to make me the Messiah that Christians have been waiting for. Somehow all this religious thoughts had made me believe I was the next Messiah. I actually knelt and cried for a couple of hours over this. Pardon me, if you believe in some other faith again! I respect that but needed my belief to get back my sanity!
It was during this time that I suddenly couldn't' stand sitting alone. I would walk to my barber and grocer and sit and chat them up. In a way it would get me off the crazy thoughts. But what really got me calm was the relentless prayer I made to God. It might have been a great honor to become the much waited Messiah. But the thought of walking around trying to convince people to do the right and be doubted and criticized again was just too much to fathom. Being pure without blemish is not an easy thing to achieve! Of course had God planned it, I would be given the strength to play the role perfectly. I secretly pleaded to be pardoned from this great and much awaited role.
Well, I don't know if God obliged or sanity started returning. But by that time I was already arranging my random sentences into paragraphs to make topics. Then I grouped paragraphs with similar topics together and made articles, which I then further grouped up to make chapters. And before I knew it, I had a book called "The End". Strange but that is how i did it.
So how does one write a book! Based on my experiences, I don't think I am in the best position to tell you. I still don't know how to do it sanely! All I can certainly say is that there could be a little madness involved. Your mind must somehow race ahead of your pen.
About the Author:
The inspiration for my book, " The End", had to wait until I was incensed. Like some food ingredient, it had to wait for the right state of mind and right situation. And to this day, I still believe I was set up by some Superior Being.
It had to wait till I was cheesed off, having been unfairly bundled out of some job. It also had to wait for an old dilapidated, pentium two, laptop handed down to me by a friend from Switzerland who happened to need a script writer. He had taken random shots for a documentary he was trying to make about slum life in Kenya from the eyes of some young ghetto kids. He knew very little English and scriptwriting and I needed some money. So some mutual friend hooked us up.
But " The End" had to wait for one more ingredient. Fury! And it came knocking promptly. Things in my life were not going on well. It was like life was an eagle closing in and I was the rabbit. Years earlier my dad died under my care, in some foreign land, while undergoing a kidney transplant. His death resulted in my first job." A job I worked 18 hours a day. I was a beekeeper by night, helping out my clients and a loan officer by day, ensuring the beehives on loan were getting paid for. I later figured I was chopping and very little chips were falling. But That was not enough to generate the fury needed!
Earlier in 1997, while still a campus student, I had written a movie script, which got made into a movie starring a famous rapper. But I got neither credit nor pay for it. Being a naïve new writer, I had skipped the copyright part and sent it to some "random director" by email. I wrote another one but bungled the option deal trying to negotiate the deal myself. I had not yet read that getting into the doors of Hollywood is the most important step for any budding screenwriter. I wrote a third one which made it to some script hot list in LA then it died there. But that did not get me furious enough! The incident was yet to come.
One day my girlfriend came in very late. It was the first time in our 5 year relationship that this had happened and for some strange reason I got pretty enraged. This resulted in some long drawn out argument in the still of the night. The next morning I found my self awake at 3am and still irate over the matter. That morning, like some forsaken man, I cried out to my Creator and asked him what my purpose in this world was! Sorry, I believe in a Creator! But that should not put you off if you believe otherwise. We're going to establish the truth soon!
Anyway, back to my tale. That day it seemed to me everything was going black despite my efforts to turn them white.
Well, that very morning, out of anger, I started writing random sentences on the old laptop. I was still dressed lightly, turning my random thoughts in sentences on notepad, when it dawned. The spelling was whack if any! But I didn't care. If this was going to cool me down then so be it. I did not have money to go for a drink at the local pub! Neither was knocking and breaking things an option!
But the writing did not stop in the morning. My girlfriend woke up, looked at me frantically typing on the couch in my bathrobe; didn't say a word; got ready and left for work and came back in the evening and found me in the same position. I hadn't gotten up to bathe, nor wear more clothing. I might have gotten up and visited the toilet or taken a snack but I can't remember spending more than ten minutes away from the typing. For the next 5 days I woke up at 3am and typed till 9pm. And all that time I was typing random thoughts. Just the same way someone in a bad spat would blubber randomly just to incense the other party.
All this time I was either wrapped in a towel or dressed lightly . On the 7th day I took a break. My girlfriend was now getting pretty worried. We had barely talked much that week. All she saw was my writing frenzy. I think she felt I was writing something to conclude our relationship. But she was afraid of mentioning anything. Here was a mad man she loved. Had she peeped at it that time, she would have concluded that I had gone nuts and called in my family. Come to think of it! Had she read done that, I would now be holed up in some mental institution trying to convince everyone that the world was ending! Maybe I should be renamed "John The Baptist", rather than John Lerrato. Wasn't he the one that preached naked!
On the 8th day I almost lost it. I looked at what I had written and become really paranoid. In my mind what I had written was so heavy and powerful that I began begging God not to make me the Messiah that Christians have been waiting for. Somehow all this religious thoughts had made me believe I was the next Messiah. I actually knelt and cried for a couple of hours over this. Pardon me, if you believe in some other faith again! I respect that but needed my belief to get back my sanity!
It was during this time that I suddenly couldn't' stand sitting alone. I would walk to my barber and grocer and sit and chat them up. In a way it would get me off the crazy thoughts. But what really got me calm was the relentless prayer I made to God. It might have been a great honor to become the much waited Messiah. But the thought of walking around trying to convince people to do the right and be doubted and criticized again was just too much to fathom. Being pure without blemish is not an easy thing to achieve! Of course had God planned it, I would be given the strength to play the role perfectly. I secretly pleaded to be pardoned from this great and much awaited role.
Well, I don't know if God obliged or sanity started returning. But by that time I was already arranging my random sentences into paragraphs to make topics. Then I grouped paragraphs with similar topics together and made articles, which I then further grouped up to make chapters. And before I knew it, I had a book called "The End". Strange but that is how i did it.
So how does one write a book! Based on my experiences, I don't think I am in the best position to tell you. I still don't know how to do it sanely! All I can certainly say is that there could be a little madness involved. Your mind must somehow race ahead of your pen.
I am Kenyan by birth-with a knack for seeing things from an odd perspective. I currently have this book and www.johnlerrato.blogspot.com. At one point in time, during my youth, I had to visit a psychiatrist simply because I thought kinda to0 much. According to me, things happening around me did not make much sense. And that made me an, odd, irritable youth. I felt unlucky; though my psychiatrist felt differently. For him, I was an adult in a teenager's body. Now I see it differently too. This "alleged bad luck" has turned into a rare gift. And over the course of time, I hope to use it to solve, reduce, or at least highlight our myriad global problems better. Why not! Who wouldn't like to improve their living standards? I have authored this book to help us get to grips where we might be heading to. I also have a personal blog to relay some of my personal thoughts with regards to our current affairs. I am aware that there are many beliefs out there. So I have tried my best to remain neutral. But for everyone's sake only. I have my belief and will stick to it for now; though after my test, we all ought to convert to the right belief. Proven that is!
"About this title" may belong to another edition of this title.
- PublisherJohn Lerrato
- Publication date2009
- ISBN 10 9966051961
- ISBN 13 9789966051967
- BindingPaperback
- Number of pages186
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The End
Published by
John Lerrato
(2009)
ISBN 10: 9966051961
ISBN 13: 9789966051967
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Book Description Paperback. Condition: Very Good. No Jacket. May have limited writing in cover pages. Pages are unmarked. ~ ThriftBooks: Read More, Spend Less 0.62. Seller Inventory # G9966051961I4N00
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