O’Brien was born in the middle of the 20th Century in
San Diego; the second most perfect spot in the most perfect
state of the United States, California. He was raised in the
most perfect spot in California, Sunnyvale. His Irish-American
family of five brothers and two sisters ranged wildly through
the vast apricot and cherry orchards that are now called Silicon
Valley. His aerospace-engineering trained father provided
the kids with the tools and skills to build solar ovens, adobe
clubhouses and hot air balloons. The kids provided the imagination
to create plausible stories explaining to their parents and/or
the police why they weren’t responsible for the eighteen-birthday-candle
powered hot air balloon made from a dry-cleaning bag that
just happened to set a neighbor’s roof on fire; that,
in fact, they were heroes for extinguishing the potential
inferno with a garden hose.
any case, out of this Gaelic stew came Aurelio, born to family
of storytellers, inventors, entrepreneurs and teachers.
however, chose a different path. He drew, he painted, he designed.
By the time he was ready to leave the creative hothouse of
home, he was accepted to The California Institute of the Arts,
established by Walt Disney as school for all the arts: dance,
painting, music, drama and film. Even in a school full of
creative folk, Aurelio stood out. Before he could finish his
curriculum, he was hired by a Hollywood film studio to work
in the movies. Twenty years of production design, story development,
script writing and other more glamorous entertainment work
on award winning films followed.
spent a full career and two decades telling other people’s
stories, Aurelio decided to tell one of his own. “Eve”
is his first novel. Another is in the works, as are a series
of children’s books and whatever else his fertile mind
decides to dispense.
O’Brien, although raised in the most perfect spot on
the planet, is always willing to try something new. After
sojourns in Taipei, Taiwan and New York, New York, he currently
resides in the foothills of Southern California, waiting patiently
with his cat and his companion for “the big one,”
planning not only to survive, but to gain ocean front property.
* * *
is the first in what Mr. O’Brien plans will become a
series of “what if” books. What will people act
like if they crack the genetic code and can formulate life
in whatever shape they choose? What will people do when aliens
suddenly show up at the local Starbucks asking for a decaf
frappachino? What if chickens had lips?
course, Mr. O’Brien’s people are the same ones
who use supercomputers to make cartoons, Hummers as commuter
cars and think actors should lead governments; who are simultaneously
clever and idiotic, charming and vulgar, childlike and childish.
O’Brien has great affection for his characters, and
hopes readers will find Govil, Eve and Pentser interesting
folk to be around, perhaps even companionable enough to want
to invite them home for something to drink, a nice meal and
some friendly conversation.