Hello! My name is Jonathan Fisher. Addisonian Author! I am The Addisonian Avenger, and you had better believe it baby! My book, August Always has been described by The Belfast Telegraph, as A Triumph. It is available to download from Amazon Kindle here: amazon.co.uk/AUGUST-ALWAYS-JONATHAN-FISHER-ebook/dp/B009LADMK0/ref=pd_sim_sbs_kinc_1 [All kindles.] If you wish, follow me on Twitter: @JonathanCyborg I am a survivor. How did I get here? I was initially formed and developed in my mother’s womb. Her name was Emma; my twin David and I shared the same placenta. My father’s name was William. I loved my parents very much. They have both passed on. I had a full childhood and subsequent teenage troubles but when I was twenty-two I died from a mystery illness. My mother breathed her life into me for the second time, as I expired in her arms. I suffered an undiagnosed Addisonian crisis and was in a coma for three months. The doctors, with all their medical knowledge, said it would be a mercy to switch off my life-support system. Against all odds, I was born again into a mummified state. I was cocooned in a twisted, wasted form, encased in harsh, cruel, snow-white National Health Service plaster of Paris. I was like an unrecognisable holocaust victim. But I moved my little finger whenever my mother asked me to do so, to show the doctors there was a semblance of life. She was very wise. I began the long, slow, hard road to recovery in 1992, a journey that would take me through many institutions and heartaches. I have spent time in the forge and on the anvil, a refining process that has reshaped me both mentally and physically. Progress has been slow at times but consistent nonetheless. A wise man once said: “The longest journey begins with a single step.” Attributed to Lao-tzu (c 604-c 531 BC), founder of Taoism. From that day on, I have learned to become a fighter, a dreamer, a lover, a horse rider, a glider pilot and now an author. A far cry from simply moving my little finger. I have become humble through my experiences, with a keenly honed, dark sense of humour that has sustained me during my time in the crucible. Kind and gentle – yet ruthless in my determination to walk again. A living paradox, if you will. This memoir is just a small sample of my experiences. Read all the reviews of August Always globally on Amazon. A poem called His Eyes. His Eyes… I met a man... about a week ago, If you get the chance, you should meet him you know. His eyes... He gave me the book. I took it away, I devoured the whole thing, in only a day. His eyes... From a wee dog named Titch, to the law that is Dredd, He introduced me to progs, and the places he played. Ive seen with new eyes this town I call home, All over our land with him I did roam. Ive ridden on his bike; Ive camped in his tent, Ive stood by his side, as friends came and went. Oh how I laughed at his antics and cried at his pain I was under the umbrella that day in the rain! His eyes... His eyes shine. Shine so bright, they smile and they dance, They will capture your heart with only a glance. Doorway to the soul, Ive seen it. It’s true! Believe me, he could teach you and me a thing... or two... Jonathan Fisher, that is his name. The brush and the pen. That is his game. He’s taught me a lot, in only a day! Jonathan Fisher! What can I say? His eyes... I met a man... about a week ago, If you get the chance, you should meet him you know... Shirley Brown Camblin
Posted on: Sun, 23 Mar 2014 14:48:48 +0000
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