Publisher's Synopsis
My works are self portraitures, consumed with questions about how identity changes over time, how selves die and are replaced, and how the mask we confront in the mirror appears to ourself, and to others. A cornucupia of secrets too unseemly to remain untold. There is really no way to restore what has been lost. My work is directed by the needs of my unconscious. And through that dark, opaque process, I can restore what might otherwise be lost. In a novel, I can restore lost voices-usually a woman's-and give words back to the silenced. Saf voice is lost in the real world. In a world where obscenities, sexual debauchery and immorality thrives, Saf is the voice of the women who dream of wistful romance and of the females broken by love and abuse. I have to write. It's not an option. It is how i cope with this world that won't listen to my voice. It is how i tell people things, i am afraid to say to their face or utter in my reality. I write it down and i give it life. It takes me to that particular place. The course of history has never been changed by the many but the few who risked exposing facts reminds me always that the pen is a mighty tool. When I'm writing the way I want, the way I love, which is without thinking about what I'm writing, a strange thing happens: I feel simultaneously the most myself I could possibly be, and at the same time totally relieved of self. I become, I guess, a version of myself that isn't filtered through the detritus and clutter of experience. We can't control so much of what happen to us in life. Even our own actions unfold in time in ways we can't possibly imagine. But there is someone inside who remains untouched by all of that. That person may not really exist in the light, but she is there, waiting, in the dark. My stories lends a simulated reality to our world, it disentangles the observer from the observed, never once have we thought about why women remain in abusive, unhealthy and toxic relationships the way we have afte reading The Bunna Man Trilogy. Dre seems to think that Cerasee Road is the epicenter of life and nothing counts but the opinions of those of Cerasee road and he tries his endeavour best to live up to their ideals albeit he thinks he is better than them. Dre is like most people bounded by a particular cultural habitués. He is a real. It is mind boggling but the character is real with his rigidity and queer morality. Saf recollection of her experiences from a narrative standpoint is bleak and dark.
