During swinging sixties London, completely against his will, Chris Whyatt was born into abject gravity. He realised the obvious some years later while working on a building site in the middle of nowhere, battling against the wind and rain. Surely, he was somehow switched at birth and there is a sultan out there, somewhere, who should have been a construction worker. Chris Whyatt (temporary name) believes that people eventually see the error of their ways and do the decent thing. It's only been fifty-seven years, after all. So, until such time, we shall all have to put up with the inane stream of literary madness. Talking of which, here's the boring bit. He mainly writes humorous fantasy. This is by no means a promise, though, and the right is reserved to pen whatever comes into his strange little mind with no prior warning. You have been not warned.
