When I was 17 I developed the desire to become a writer.
But I was beset by feelings of existentialist confusion
and a sense that I was entirely unqualified to comment
on the world in general and human nature in particular.
For more than a decade I led the life of a drifter and
a barfly. I worked at many jobs — insurance clerk,
storeman, schoolteacher, labourer, farm foreman, leather
worker, factory supervisor — for periods of 3 months
or less. I also depleted the Unemployment Insurance Fund
whenever I could.
In order to confront the fear and perplexity I felt on
contemplating suffering and death I worked, on and off,
for 3 years as an orderly in a number of state hospitals.
In 1980 I exiled myself for a year on a remote island
(Gough) out in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. On returning
to the mainland I was unable to say that I had achieved
anything more than a certain degree of detachment.
The biological imperative to replicate my genes then
compelled me to find a mate and produce offspring. This
entailed taking a regular job, and for the next 17 years
I toiled ceaselessly at the construction of houses and
other brick and mortar structures.
At the age of 49 an electro-chemical explosion took place
in my brain. I "awoke", realising that I now
possessed a worldview, and that I had acquired enough
experience and insight to get on with my writing career.
For the past eleven years I have led a reclusive existence
in an isolated part of the Southern Cape, and have produced
four major works: The Life of Henry Fuckit 1950-2015,
The Water Tower, Pop-splat and Kikaffir: a Black Comedy, which is the next instalment in the Shockspeare series.
To find out more about my other work, myself and my first of a kind Minds-i-Book, you can visit IanMartinTheAuthor.com