I never intended to write a book. Never intended to compile short snippets of recollections and find appropriate photographs to sit beside them within a paper framework. A book was never part of the plan. I’d barely scraped through English in the final years of high school; comprehension was never a favourite of mine.
All this came about through a friend who read some of my reminiscing one morning on social media and insisted I send it on to a publisher he knew.
The majority of these recollections were written on a train or a plane, in a hotel room or airport lounge. There’s something about being in motion, in-between places that helps jolt my memory. Random thoughts spill out when I’m travelling from home in the hills of Tecoma to my part-time day jobs in town or when flying out from Melbourne to other destinations for music.
There are some chapters within that are possibly too private. I grappled with the notion of including them, precariously I let go, I’m still not quite sure why.
The collection is sporadic, arbitrary with a gap or two. They are my memories of events and I imagine may differ slightly to others present at the time. I couldn’t simply write about all things music and only music, as other experiences and beings shape my existence.
Listen to the JOHNNY CASH chapter from T H E B O O K.
'You're Not Rob Snarski' is available now.