NEWSFLASH+++NEWSFLASH+++NEWSFLASH+++

[I've been told off by my parents - the only people who ever read this blog, it seems - for not posting, so here you go, folks!]

Just received in the post today - a certificate announcing that 'Gooey, Chewy, Rumble, Plop' has won the Norfolk Library's Children's Book Award in the 'older children's books' category!

Apparently 11,000 people voted, and who can argue with such a democratic process?

The company we keep

What do the following people have in common?

a) environmentally-friendly knob-twiddler Moby
b) rude diary-scribbler Samuel Pepys
c) my good self

No - you're never going to get it. Give it up. I'll have to tell you.

Extracts from our diaries (or blogs in the case of a and c) appear together in a forthcoming educational publication. The task is for students to compare and contrast 3 differing styles of journal writing. And I can't help but feel that I'm going to suffer in this comparison.

I mean, out of all the successful and talented authors out there furiously blogging on a variety of erudite subjects, why pick me? 'More news about my shed' - fascinating.

The lesson - if there is one - is this: I must write something a bit more interesting here in future. But don't get your hopes up too high.

Here's a thing

I've been slogging away on a book for several months now, without any great inspiration coming my way. The other night, having just had my PC repaired, I decided to have a look through the 'Documents' folder to see what I might have lost if it hadn't proven fixable. And there I found a synopsis I wrote a couple of years ago, for a book that never got commissioned. I read it through again and thought 'Blimey! That's actually pretty good!' I very rarely come up with a synopsis first, 'preferring' to plough ahead, as with my current project, with little clear idea of where I'm going.

So faced with the choice - carry on with something that isn't really inspiring me at the moment, or flesh out a good story that is already mapped out for me - I've had a drastic change of direction. And it's really exciting! I hope for a flurry of creativity over the coming weeks.

Noah's Ark

I'd just like to point out that if you search for my name on Amazon, you will find that I'm supposed to have co-written a book called 'Noah's Ark', again with Nick Sharratt.

I didn't write it, honest, and I'm not sure why Amazon think I did.

Just wanted to clear that up. Buy it anyway - I'm sure it will be good.

Snot even published yet...

...but the second book in the Gorgeously Gross Guides series - The Icky, Sticky, Snot and Blood Book - is already being advertised on Amazon. Throw money at them now, and enjoy the book when it comes out in September.

And I'm sorry about the nasal artefact on the front - not my idea. Strangely, several people who were quite prepared to tug a very lifelike tongue said they wouldn't touch a bogey, thank you very much. We will see if this has an effect on sales.

It's a Con!

I thought long and hard about going to Orbital - Eastercon 2008 (and if you don't know what it is, have a look here) but eventually decided against it. Let's see if that was the right decision:

For:

It was near Heathrow, which is as near as it has been for a long time (Bradford next year, for instance)

A friend of mine (the lovely Tanith Lee) was one of the Guests of Honour

There were several other GoHs whose work I've read, eg China Mieville, Neil Gaiman

My sometime agent John Jarrold was there, presenting the BSFA Awards

There was a bar

There were some very interesting sessions, including one by the very talented John Kaiine

There was a bar

Against:

It was expensive

It was snowing

I've never been to one before, and don't know if they are a) a hoot or b) full of people with poor social skills dressed as Klingons (the people, not the social skills)

The missus was not keen, for the above 3 reasons

There was a bar

So, let's look at the scores...

Yup - looks like I should have gone. :-(

New Year thoughts...

So, another year rumbles into being. Apparently my stars say it will be a good one, as long as I use my intelligence. Sounds like hard work...

I start the year with mixed feeling about my writing. A picture book I worked on recently has done better than I ever hoped, and I have now finished the first draft text for the sequel. But whereas the first book was quite straightforward, and sometimes even fun, the second has been hard work and not a pleasant experience at all. This is mainly due to the attitude of one of the people I'm working with on the project. That and the fact that I'm struggling to get an even half-decent contract agreed for the second book means that I'm currently pretty sure I won't be doing a third.

Which is a shame in some ways - I'm proud of the first book, and don't regret having taken it on - but a relief in others. It means I can get back to what I enjoy - writing fiction. Let's face it, the workings of the human body are about as far away as it's possible to get from children's fantasy fiction, and it was only ever meant to be a sideline, one that has now sapped far too much of my scant free time.

So onwards and upwards with the Personal Demons project (we're currently finishing off the musical), a new novel I'm working on, and an old one I'm trying to get published.

And if I can rustle up some intelligence, I shall apply it as my horoscope suggests...

The Subs Anecdote

I recently wrote this story up for a friend, who was there but somehow had forgotten. I enjoyed writing it, so I thought I'd post it here. For no obvious reason. So here it is:

What to say about the legend that was the Sub Club and is no more? Well, when I knew it, it was in a block of buildings that had somehow survived the demolition of virtually that whole area of Rotherham, and stuck up out of a sea of brick rubble like some sort of soot-blackened ghost ship. I think it housed a bike shop as well, but the Sub Club, as the name suggests, was in the basement and accessed down a flight of stairs outside.

Anyway, on the day of the UK Subs gig, we had both (entirely coincidentally) been to some sort of family ‘do’ before hand – the sort of ‘do’ that requires you to look vaguely smart and be nice to a selection of dimly recognised relatives. Consequently we both turned up for the gig wearing smart shirts and cardigans, which were briefly acceptable around the heyday of The Smiths (that’s what I tell people when they see photos of me from that era, anyway).

The rest of the crowd, as you can probably imagine, was dressed somewhat at variance to ourselves, tending as they did towards leather, tartan, studs and sweat. Still, we were undaunted and set about a few pints. As a warm-up to the Subs coming on, they were playing a medley of punk classics over the PA, and when ‘Submission’ came on we both – obviously feeling a bit more comfortable by now and presumably being fond of this track (it is one of the Pistols’ better efforts) – as one man nodded at each other, got up and headed for the dancefloor.

Said dancefloor was pretty much lost to view in a dense crowd of black leather, but we pushed our way through and, with a last mighty heave, spilled forth onto the floor.

It was then that we realised that nobody else was dancing. I’ll repeat that, because it bears repeating - NOBODY ELSE WAS DANCING. The crowd stopped at the edge of the dancefloor like some sort of Star Trek force field was in operation, and my friend and I, in our smart shirts and cardies, looked around at a blank and frankly slightly hostile wall of 6-foot Mohawks.

I can still remember how my heart sank.

Anyway, it is to our eternal credit that we looked at each other, shrugged and started slam-dancing. The Mohawks, presumably deciding that we were either mad and therefore probably harmless, or very, very much harder than we looked (and this latter option is unlikely, I know) elected to leave us alone. In fact, I think a few warmed after a while and joined us on the floor. But I may be making that up to make myself feel better.

And there you have it – what has become known as ‘The Subs Anecdote’, a tale of misguided sartorial endeavour from a lost, but not forgotten, age.

Rising tide of creativity

After one of those periodic lulls when nothing much seems to be happening, various projects are beginning to build up a head of steam again.



The Personal Demons Project - which I am increasingly inclined to think is the best thing I've ever been involved with - is moving again. The script for the musical is nearly finished, and Jack Todhunter has done a truly fantastic job of adapting it for a school hall setting (ie. getting rid of all my over-the-top flights of fancy) whilst still retaining the spirit of the thing. We're hoping to do a first read-through around Christmas, which should be a hoot.



Still no sign of a publisher for the novel though. It will be a crime if nobody takes this one on. And not just because I wrote it - because it's good, and a lot of people have put a lot into the project.



The sequel to Gooey, Chewy, Rumble, Plop is gathering pace - rather too much pace, to be honest. I'm about 2 spreads behind on the text at the moment. The first one was so popular that the sequel has been brought forward by a year, so it's all a bit frantic this time around.

And I'm hoping, if I can get on top of some of my other commitments, to get back to writing for pleasure. I have an old project on the back burner that just won't go away. I need to dust it down and put some more work into it.

Hot cakes

Well, The Gooey, Chewy, Rumble, Plop Book seems to be selling very well - apparently it has sold out its first print run in the UK and is likely to do the same in several other countries.

So get a copy quickly, while you still can!

Work is progressing well on the sequel, which I think is going to be just as good...