The Laughing Lip

Mythology repeats itself.


No one writes on a truly blank slate.  All of the stories and ideas of the world are contained in the eraser smears and chalk dust.  Everything that has shaped human experience and imagination is already there.

Anyone with curiosity and internet access already knows that my titles come from the closing speech of the Red Man in W.B. Yeats’ play, “The Green Helmet.”  A cursory look will also show that Gandiva was the great bow given to Arjuna by Agni the fire god in the Indian epic “The Mahabharata.”  No, the references are not accidental, nor is my adaptation of a few lines from an old translation of the Mahabarata.  These highlight important themes in these novels, beginning with this:  humanity is a territorial animal.  Humanity also turns on itself, not necessarily a great distinction over other animals.  Most important, though, is this:  Mythology repeats itself.”

As I have noted elsewhere, the characters and some of the basic assumptions in this novel began to form in my prehistoric college days, when personal computers were science fiction and role-playing games required dice and paper.  I found and began to referee the earliest version of Marc Miller’s Traveller®, in the classic black box (six-sided dice included at no extra charge).  Marc Miller has been gracious enough to decline suing me over this.  Visit to learn more about this venerable role-playing game.

I’ve read and watched a lot of science fiction over the years.  If you see parallels to one of your favorites, please be assured that I didn’t steal outright.  There are only so many ideas to write about, and so many ways to write about them.  I will expressly acknowledge C.H. Cherryh, as her  books inspired some geeks to create a workable program allowing me to determine where things occur in this corner of the universe.  Visit when you’re done reading this.

My writing is probably unredeemable space opera, no matter what dry leaves of Indian, Chinese and Celtic spices I throw into the pot.  That having been said, what I have tried to do is write about the multiple forms of “territorial” conflict that humanity engages in.  We spend a lot of time protecting and expanding our physical and philosophical borders, not to mention crushing those who  disagree with us over just where the lines are drawn.  We don’t spend near enough time finding and celebrating common ground. 

Worse yet, we don’t spend near enough time protecting a rarity in the universe:  a quaint little blue-green world called (in English, at least) Earth.


Gregylock Publishing Lines

Attn:  Gregory P. Lee


To contact us: