Rob Gregory | Author
“Give an infinite number of monkeys an infinite number of typewriters and eventually, one of them will produce the complete works of Shakespeare. Give a typewriter to Rob Gregory and he’ll probably just eat it.”
Murray Liebencranz, Bassoon Weekly.
So, you finally made it. And I’m glad that you did because, in these few, hallowed electronic pages, you’ll find what is probably the greatest collection of literature and assorted ramblings ever produced by a protohominid in captivity. There are short stories, long stories, stories for kids (especially those that never grew up), stories for grown-ups, something for almost everyone in fact and it’s growing every day.
So, sit back, make yourself comfortable and have a look around. Hopefully, you’ll find something here to amuse and entertain your insatiable brain cells and if you’ve a mind to, then why not find out a bit more about me below?
About Rob Gregory (the author)
Born in the wilds of Bristol, England, in the mid-seventies, Rob bravely battled school and an unusually high number of bad haircuts to emerge relatively unscathed with a basic, but well-loved education tucked under his arm. Using this in much the same way as a thief uses his favourite crowbar, he wormed his way into Reading University (which is quite appropriate for a writer) and studied Biology (which is not). Having gained a slightly broader education and a fondness for old buildings, he shimmied his way up the well-trodden towpath to Oxford, where he locked himself in a broom cupboard for three years and emerged with a PhD, having still not written any substantive works of fiction, despite what critics of his thesis might say.
Following those halcyon years, he set off with reckless abandon to seek his fortune among the glittering lights and gold-paved streets of London, where he promptly fell in with a pioneering internet TV company. It was a wild and passionate affair, involving late nights, alcohol and playing around with expensive televisual equipment, but alas, it was not to be and he was run out of Chiswick by a band of howling warrior maidens from the BBC.
Never one to stop running, he fled across the continents, ending up in New Zealand, where he found excitement in the windy nether regions of Wellington and solace in the welcoming arms of the Waikato. It was there that he finally put finger to keyboard and wrote his first book, Death and the Schoolboy, which was put onto a floppy disk and promptly forgotten about. However, the deed was done and no matter how hard he tried to ignore the urge, even focusing for more than a decade on a glittering career in animal welfare, the need to write became ever stronger. Finally, he capitulated and at the beginning of 2017 began a new life as a wandering author (and animal welfare consultant – old habits die hard, don’t you know). What you see here is the ongoing legacy of that fateful decision…Enjoy!