The book’s nearly done. 50,000 words and counting. It should be nicely rounded out and wrapped up by about 60,000 words if nothing goes wrong (which it definitely will). I mostly write from the State Victoria Library, far and away the most magnificent library I have ever come across, and a truly inspiring spot. However, when sitting in the cavernous domed hall, with green reading lands and oak tables and the hallowed quotes of literary greats carved into grand white marble plaques, it feels quite odd to be writing the kind of story I’m working on.
On any given moment, somebody gazing idly over my shoulder as I type may encounter any manner of situations; perhaps macabre, perverse, dizzying, ridiculous, or most often, all four at once. Well now, just for you -because I do so cherish you, you handsome devil you – here you are. Here lieth a collection of some of the most backward, bloated, bombastic and plain fucking bonkers passages I have found myself writing to date. You lucky thing.
I love this bit of the book. To get you up to speed: people are meddling in the past and altering the present, and Ian, the CEO of Aeons Time Travel Agency, is mostly responsible. Gronk, his chief engineer, has some bad news for him. Enjoy. Continue reading
I am so excited about this one it’s unreal. I have high hopes that this will be my first published novel; I’ve been working hard on it night and day, making use of all my free time. I am in love with this world, the characters, the peril, the adventure. Writing every word has been a joy. I don’t want to give too much of the plot away, but if you’re a smart cookie, perhaps you’ll figure out where’s it’s heading. I hope you have as much fun reading this little segment as I had writing it today.
I am reluctant to publish too much of my book-in-waiting for fear that it would spoil the twists and turns of the story, but at the same time… fuck it. Continue reading
Hello again, you lovely thing.
Excellent news! I’m at 21,000 words in my book at the moment, which is just shy of 90 pages. By the time I’m finished I predict it’ll be near the 30,000 mark. It wasn’t supposed to be that long, but I’m simply having too much fun to cut the story short.
Below are 1,500 words or so that I wrote over the last day. As a quick recap: the king and his trio of companions are en route to rescue the kidnapped queen, Astra. The characters have overcome many obstacles, but are not without a few scars: the king is missing a hand, and Edgar has been turned into a panda. Yes, yes, it’s very silly, because silly is wonderful. Best if you temporarily switch off that grouchy part of your brain labelled ‘depressing adult cynicism’.
We join our bold quartet as they approach the last great danger of their journey: crossing the Sea of Pìss (pronounced peace). Enjoy. Or don’t. I don’t care. I love this shit! Continue reading
Oi, you. Yeah you. You with the nose. Stop what you’re doing right now. Stop it. Put down whatever you’re holding and back away from it, unless all you are holding is your mobile phone or laptop, in which case absolutely do not put it down and back away; instead widen your eyes and press your nose up against the screen, because I have something truly wonderful to show you, you lucky sod.
I’ve written some 6,000 words of my novella, which should be near enough 20,000 when I finish it in around six weeks. That’s right – I am almost a third of the way through. You know why? Because I am just bloody marvellous. No, it’s no use arguing. Hush. I am a marvel.
Because I have not posted anything on here for a little while, and I hate seeing my beloved blog sit empty, I’ve decided to publish the first 1000 words or so. It’s a work in progress, ‘aiight? So if you read it and think it’s about as witty and interesting as a steaming keg of ox vomit, I’d like to offer you a preemptive ‘fuck off’.
Enjoy! Continue reading
it was tramlines festival in sheffield. we had been out all day, a big group of us, new friends and old friends running around together being half wits.
i was on a high, no drugs yet, just pure energy borne all from freedom and a can-do sunnyside upbeat demeanour, the sort that just pours out of you
when ya with ya mates. Continue reading
Let me see now, if I can recall correctly, it was about quarter past four on a blustery Tuesday afternoon in May when the whale swallowed me whole. Continue reading
I did my fly up and rinsed my hands in the sink. My paper hat was skew-whiff in the mirror. I took it off, parted my hair, repositioned it, then for the fifteenth time checked I hadn’t got any sauce on my shirt. I shook my hands dry as I turned, and through my own interminable bad luck I found myself flicking water over James Dean’s groin.
“Shit, sorry man,” I murmured as I bustled past.
“Ah, it’s nothin’,” he shrugged, undoing his belt and slinking past me into a cubicle. Continue reading