I hope, more than anything, I can make a few people feel what I felt, holed up in the New Laos Paris Hotel, finishing this, listening to Hammock’s Everything and Nothing on repeat before I met the sunset at the Four Junction Vetsara for a beer Laos rendezvous. But my voice is my voice, and my song’s gotta be my song. The books and music that shaped me, the streets that made me, the people who came and went, in ways both big and small, they are all here.Īs a writer, I’ve always clung more closely to Thomas Wolfe than Hemingway, for better and for worse. It’s years of Eurasia experienced by a southern dude inspired by southern gothic. In some strange way, this is a coded biography of my own life. Many of the places, people and scenes described were in some way pulled from my own experiences, though the filtering valve on reality was released to provide a fantastical twist to it all.
It’s a very different experience than my blogging, although the source material comes from my years of living in Russia and beyond.
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