Fletch—Bali-based British-Irish writer from Leeds, England. Left for Spain aged 22 in 2011, writing 'Jackboot Britain', thence relocating to Thailand in January 2012, working as an amateur freelance reporter. A move to Bali, Indonesia came in August 2014; 'The Acid Diary' followed in December; four more books thereafter… and after disaster, relief, torture, betrayal and mayhem: a pandemic in the palm-shade of paradise, Pha-ngan, then to Ukraine: Christmas in Kyiv trying to volunteer to fight. "Surreal Dreamscapes: Mind-Bending Mayhem in Absurdistan, The Fletch Anthology 22-33: 2011-22" https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B5N97GLJ/ "Wolves Eat Lambs: The Pornography of Power" https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BM3WCKDW/ https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0BM3WCKDW/ From writing a screenplay in Ibiza with a 'music producer' (RIP) whilst living with a 'BBC television director'; departing to write a documentary in Thailand; the fightsport journalism years, flag tied to the mast of m€th-fried mentalists in a den of Phuket lunacy; embedded early with (then banned from) the future world’s largest fight promotion, ONE Championship; charity fights and childlike juvenilia; general spoofs and lampoonery; choosing to be a poor man with pals in Indonesia rather than a rich and miserable man in Singapore; moving to Indo with the Leone Brothers in 2014; the Bali MMA years; the Rise and Ráp3 of Canggu; Kedungu and the Pigstone rice paddy panoramas; all the rascals and rogues in that rich tapestry; romantic omnishambles, face-melting, melon-twisting mayhem and misadventures, dead friends and lovers, disaster, relief; psychophysical annihilation and treachery; earthquakes and landslides, eruptions, tsunami alerts; crashes and jackings, lynchings and chaos—all the life and death in those surreal dreamscapes of that endless second, into which time collapsed… I even squeezed in a few posthumous ‘Pandemic in Paradise’ tales, of Predatory Pigs in the Palm-shade, ‘Holding Moments By The Stem’, ‘survival tribes’ and shrinking, peripheral worlds; two or three lavishly illustrated stories to share round the campfire. Post-2019 is unreliably narrated, with new cognitive faculties, but hey—someone should laugh. Or chuckle… grin… smirk? ‘Write as if posthumously’ is a fine old maxim, and here it feels unnervingly appropriate: the entire Palm-shaded Pandemic in Paradise is a ghostly post-vita experience for the Stumbling Swayze. Buy my book, and feel comfortable and witty at parties, smell fresh, sweat fragrantly and taste sweet, as doors open, ropes part, champagne supernovas form in the cosmoi and the moist magic of warm wet flesh envelopes your loins, while sexually charismatic nymphomaniacs chase you down the street like Hard Day’s fookin Night. This book will free you to no longer make foolish grammatical errors, with more pain and poetry, immersive beauty, terror, terrible power, ugliness, wisdom, idiocy, violence, sex and drug-fuelled bedlam than Oliver Reed going mad in a crack lounge. Dunk your cookies in my milk and let ’em soak on the rap. One Fletch word is worth a thousand pictures: click, buy n’ bang on. ~ <> "I loved it (The Acid Diary). It changed my life; since I DJ'd the early acid house raves and Ibiza when that meant something, I'd been looking for the same vibe, community, quality of music and everything. I found Fletcher's book and fell in love. It was everything I'd looked for, and it was really enjoyably written, too. I'd always thought that place was awash with 'the bucket people' but this book changed my life. I loved Fletcher's account of it. Meeting him in Ko Pha Ngan was amazing, and only realising who he was after partying and chilling with him for three days was surreal. That's synchronicity at its finest." ~DJ Mash, mixer from the acid house raves, veteran of warehouse and tent, also DJ'd 'Es Paradis' Ibiza and more 1985-93: a fan of 'The Acid Diary'. <> Fletch has been based in Bali and Ko Pha-ngan since