A Play
The story of a late night London taxi driver, Zero 7, and his life among the clip joints, prostitutes and killers of Soho. More
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Words: 19,640
Language: English
ISBN: 9781310886850
About David William Kirby

I have written my whole life; seriously, I have a file of rejection letters a foot thick to prove it. My English was poor after leaving school so I understand why. I spend my spare time writing and re-writing/editing and putting my life's work online. You can find 40 years worth of novels, plays, poetry and essays published at Scribd:

During the recent period of uploading I have managed to edit and deal with the poor grammar that held me back when I was younger. I am proud of my work and so far the 27.000 readers I've had to date agree with me.; I wish more people would pay to read my work but I don't write to be paid; I do it because I enjoy immersing myself in creativity. If others enjoy or learn anything from what I've created it's a bonus.

We've all been spoilt by free content availably on-line so I understand why people don't want to be bothered paying for something they expect to be free. It would be nice if I could earn something but, as I've said, it's not why I write.

The underbelly of life and some of life's loosers interest me. Having experienced difficulties in the past I have an intuitive understanding of depravation (whether it be poor housing or homelessness or habitual behaviour); this combined with my psychological training helps to get into my character's minds and explain what drives them. I have an intrest in the unusual and history; or odd historical events. Hence one day I may write about a drug addicted cab driver who has a transexual as a partner and the next about ghosts.

The first book I wrote 'Before Now and After' was started when I was a wayward 15 year old at one of those Stonehenge Free festivals back in the early 70s. I still own the two foolscrap tombs filled with my longhand scrawl. As the sound of Hawkwind filled the hash stained air and rain fell across the field of tents and flags the words just spilled onto the page.

It ended up being written backward with the last section being written first, and the first section written last and the narrative is like a teenagers bedroom wall, here's a splash of occultism, there a flash of music and a whole load of other interest thrown into the mix.

The publishing industry never got to appreciate the talent and only saw the crazy grammer and bad puctuation; thank the lord for internet publishing.

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