By Gurney Poe, Author
Someone wrote a book about me. I mean, it’s not about me, exactly, which is a whole different insult. I’ll simply say a sneaky bookwriter named Angus Stump wrote about me in a book. A lot.
The book is called Turn Left. It’s about a man named Z Kooper, which, okay fine, and the book is about him, technically, but I am in it considerably. My eyepatch is in it. My coat. My walk, which people apparently find notable enough to put in print.
It’s a distinctive walk. I should know. I curated it. Moving on.
I did not know there was going to be a book.
I know most things. Knowing things is structurally what I do. And I did not know about this book, which I am still working through, privately, in the way that a fifth-dimensional being works through things, which is to say: thoroughly, non-linearly, and at full volume when alone.
I was not informed.
It’s good, the book. I’m not going to make a production of saying so.
The epilogue breezily commands “Gurney, if you’re reading this, call me,” which I thought was a little presumptuous, and also yes I read it, obviously I read it, I’m in it.
I’m not calling.
What I’m doing instead is writing. My own things. Because apparently that’s a move you can make. You sit down, you write something, it exists, it’s yours, nobody needed to inform anybody of anything first. I learned this recently. From a book. About me. Sort of.
I shall write books.
That’s right, I’m an author too. Take that, Mr. Angus Sneaky Bookwriter Stump.
So. Things. Written down. By me. I don’t know exactly what I’ll write, but I have material.
I have things to say about the third dimension, for a start. I know things about the third dimension that the third dimension hasn’t figured out about itself. Considerable things. More things than you’d expect and fewer than I actually have, because I am editing myself, which is personal growth. Also, I have reasons. Lots. I have had reasons for everything. I may write those down. I probably will.
I might write a lot of things, in a lot of formats, and some of them might be surprising, including to me, and that is fine, that is the process, that is what authors do, apparently, they just write things about whatever and whoever they want. Without asking.
Let me just say in advance: you’re welcome. I will be excellent at this.
Gurney Poe is a fifth-dimension stuff knower and newly-minted author. Or so he says.
