The story started out years ago as a 3000 worder about a man with a mystery wasting illness who inherited his grandfather's collection of sea horses and then goes on a bad behaviour spree. The sea horses went, the characters became Sal and Moriarty, and the homage went to Jack Kerouac writer of the Beat classic On the Road. This is the way with a lot of my stories. They all pay homage to someone in the end, whether it's Chandler or Ballard.
There's a lot of comfort in acknowledging the greats and making them speak again. Christ knows we need them now. There isn't a lot of confidence out there embracing anything new. People are intimidated, browbeaten, scared and frightened understandably. But art leads society, so I'm very pleased that the great icon of humanity, Dean Moriarty, has taken to the road one last time to espouse his simple ideas, to remind the world of a few absolutes. Long live Dean Moriarty!