Category: books

Flibbertygibbets and jiggerypokery

A lot has happened in a short space of time so I thought I’d write a little post to let everyone know what the flibbertygibbets is going on.

– The Book and the Blade has a new release date – February 28th, 2023. I’ve known for quite a while that this was going to happen and I’ll be honest, I was gutted at first, but it is for the best. The reason is due to some jiggerpokery at the publishers that meant the original schedule couldn’t be kept. Not really a problem, my debut novel will still come out in my 40th year and I think that’s pretty cool.

– About that ‘debut novel’ thing. Well, The Book and the Blade might not end up being my debut after all. I still have a publisher interested in getting Rock Zombie into print… there’s a small chance it could happen before February, but who knows?

– I finished another book. This one is set where I live in Australia and is called The Last Witch in Brisbane. There is an uncomfortable number of people beta reading it for me. I’m scared.

– Speaking of other books, there are four Arthur Crazy stories in total and they are all complete. In fact, it’s really surreal to me that no one has read Arthur’s first adventure and I’ve finished a whole story arc!

– The cover for the second book will be announced sooner than you think and hopefully, the release of the four books will be more condensed than first planned.

– Each book will be available in eBook, hardback and paperback formats from pretty much anywhere you can buy books. There is also a possibility of an audiobook release but I’m not 100% on that just yet.

– Last but not least, following advice from people I really respect, I have delved into the young person’s world of TikTok. I don’t know what I’m doing and honestly, once I’ve waded past all the shiny young people waving their tits at the camera I feel more than a little uncomfortable being there… so I’m going about it with my usual sense of professionalism and attention to detail.

Oh, and I’m writing. In fact, I’m writing the story I’ve wanted to write since before I could read (🤔, but more on that later.

Cheers folks!

In Terms of Terms This is it!

MY BOOK COMES OUT THIS TERM!

*to be clear… it isn’t.

As a teacher by day (and a barely functioning man-child by night) much of my life is controlled by bells, schedules and timetables. Even now, during the school holidays, I have a Pavlovian response to sniff out the nearest coffee at 8:15, 10:55 and 3:01, but it’s not just the daily routine that is ground in, it’s my entire life, the way I view the world. My year, for example, is organised by terms and breaks and it occured to me recently that THIS IS MY LAST SCHOOL BREAK BEFORE MY BOOK COMES OUT!

Next term I will be a published author…

I’m fine. I’m fine. No pressure!

… and the next school holiday I’ll probably be crying why isn’t anyone reading my book?!

… and the one after that I’ll be desperately shilling The Book and the Blade as a stocking filler!

… the one after that? Pulp?

But nihilistic self-deprecating bollocks aside, that’s really exciting isn’t it?! Yes, my life is split into carefully colour-coded and well organised little chunks, and yes I do associate big events automatically with where they fit in the school year… for example, in my first ever term as a teacher I married the love of my life… but that structured existence makes it really kind of exciting (and easy to keep track of). So while I’ll be preparing my students as they head towards their final exams (term 3 is notoriously where all the really hard work happens) I’ll also be coming home to a house that will look a little like Alan Partridge’s caravan (now that’s a niche little reference. I’m not sure how many will get that one!)

in fact, it’s the second Alan Partridge reference I’ve thrown in this post.

So, in terms of terms, this is it, my book is out… now*

*disclaimer… my book is not actually out now. Now will in fact be on September 6. But by then you’ll be able to look back at this which will be now.

[engaging headline to encourage people to read]

I’ve always been fascinated by regression… going back to those things we find comfort in particularly when times are hard. There’s a psychological basis for it I’m sure but I won’t pretend to know what I’m talking about there. For me, it’s as simple as comfort food, comfort tv and comfort books. Last week I got ill and found myself watching Danger Mouse then marathoning the Star Wars movies… because apparently, despite being forty (and falling apart) I have never actually grown up. The difficult thing for me this week, though, has been the fact that I have found it almost impossible to read for any length of time. I just can’t concentrate, I feel nauseous and it brings on a migraine. That has been horrible. As my sister-in-law affectionately (I think) called me when we first met, I’m… a fucking book reader. So being off work for a week (nightmare, I love my job) and not being able to read has been particularly shit.

DISCLAIMER: it is about a week since our little late night scramble to the hospital and I am feeling much better… but this post has taken the better part of an entire day to compose. Never mind the lack of focus, there are just too many awesome new episodes of Danger Mouse and Duck Tales to watch!

Despite being unable to read or concentrate for any great length of time, my brain hasn’t got the memo to switch off. I might be lethargic but – to abuse a quote from Messrs. Pratchett and Gaiman – my mind is…

… gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide

Good Omens

Being unable to “switch off” is both a blessing and a curse. When you’re in an Emergency Room at 330am and some fucker is watching cat videos on their phone without headphones and a televangelist is screaming at you from the tv while you’re trying to keep your brain from oozing out your ears and the rest of your insides on the inside, it is alarming how many variations of Middle-Aged Man Rampages in Waiting Room Because… headlines flit through your mind. This is why Stephen King writes horror, right? Because if he did any of the things in his head he’d be banged up quicker than Amber Heard trying to bring those dogs back to Australia. But the positive side is the ideas. A whole montage of what ifs flitting across the inside of my eyelids when I’m trying to rest. To a writer, they’re gold dust. But also… somewhat annoying. Kind of like Homer in The Simpsons episode where he communes with the animals and they just won’t leave him alone.

Scene from Homer the Heretic

So in this situation I retreat (regress… hide…) in the pages of my favourite book. Nation by Sir Terry Pratchett. It has to be the audiobook of course because the words make my eyes swim and my belly attempt a flop without a pool, but thankfully the narration by Stephen Briggs is superb. The strange thing about this book, however, is that it is not a childhood favourite. I had never even heard of it until I was in my 30s, but magic doesn’t give a shit about age and Nation is pure magic.

In fact, this post was supposed to be a book review.

(Note to self – having ideas is good. Writing them down is better.)

I had intended to write a series of reviews about my favourite books and what they mean to me – this was supposed to be the first – but as I’ve already waffled on for a small eternity and only just mentioned the damn thing I think I’ll end it here and try again when I feel better.

And anyway, that last season of Duck Tales isn’t going to watch itself.

So, erm, yeah… Nation by Terry Pratchett. It’s really good. 5 nitrous monkeys out of 5.

🐒🐒🐒🐒🐒

Nation by Sir Terry Pratchett. Read by Stephen Briggs.

What the hell am I going to call this post?

All Hail Emperor Bezos and Bow Down Before the Amazon Overlords!

There is no getting around it. Very soon I will have to get on my knees like everyone else in the world and beg for scraps at the feet of Emperor Bezos. As much as I would love The Book and the Blade to be 100% indie… only available in small shops with quirky cafes and book sellers who double as baristas, or perhaps even in unique little corners of the internet on websites run by enthusiastic book bloggers, I will still need to play The Amazon Game!

3(0) is the magic number! Yes it is, it’s the magic number!

– 30 reviews gets your book noticed by Amazon’s algorithms (Wizards. Wizards sounds cooler.)

– reviews get you onto lists

– lists get you exposure

Lists like these…

Having not released the book yet it is no surprise I’m floundering at the very bottom

But then there’s the strange caveat that reviews from people you know sometimes disappear. I’ve seen this with author friends and there are many indie authors on Twitter who testify to the same thing… any reviews they have which may be linked to, say, people on their Facebook friends list, can mysteriously vanish. Forget algorithms and wizards, that is the work of Amazon’s Dark Overlords!

(A smidge dramatic? Maybe.)

This doesn’t always happen but it has occurred enough times for it to be “a thing” for indie authors.

I don’t know how it will play out for The Book and the Blade but I do ask (and will repeatedly beg) that if you do read my little book, please leave a review. They might vanish into the ether, they might not. Either way, all interaction makes a huge difference. Perhaps together we can unite and overthrow the overlords? And they don’t have to be complex reviews or even analyse the story in any way. They just have to exist.

Here’s a few examples…

***** Excellent cover

I.P. Freely

***** Interesting title

Ivana Tinkle

***** It’s a book

My mate Mitchell

***** Looks great on my shelf

Seymour Butts

***** That bit with the cat was funny

Al Coholic

***** It’s not that shit

Oliver Klozoff

Thanks for reading!

I will eviscerate you in fiction!

Every pimple, every character flaw. I was naked for a day; you will be naked for eternity.

Geoffrey Chaucer (sort of)

One of the fun things about writing a book you think pretty much no one will read is putting all your friends and family in there and ending their lives in new and imaginative ways. Not in a ‘secret serial killer’ kind of way you understand, more in a ‘hey lads, won’t this be a laugh?’ kind of way. But when said book bizarrely comes to the verge of publication all those funny little in-jokes and tragic ends suddenly seem a little… odd. What is perhaps even more strange is calling your friends and asking them for permission to end their lives.

So, chaps. I wrote a book. It’s getting published. You’re all kind of in it. Some of you for longer than others. Are you all cool with me using your names? And, well, killing you?

Thankfully, I am blessed with excellent friends. Perhaps my favourite reply was this one…

“Anyway man, can I please use your full name in a short scene where you get brutally torn apart by a…” “If you don’t use my full name, I’ll kill you”

What a legend! And they’re all the same. Everyone said yes. So friends and family are-quite literally in some places-littered throughout the books. What is interesting, however, is that I never once chose the name of a person I dislike (there aren’t that many people to be fair, but my Yorkshire-based stories leave little room for Donalds and Vladimirs. Perhaps I should have used Boris the bumbling oaf somewhere though?)

When Paul Bettany-in his excellent portrayal of Geoffrey Chaucer in A Knight’s Tale (loosely based on The Canterbury Tales)-hissed the wonderful insult,

I will eviscerate you in fiction!

he was going after the rogues and scoundrels. When I do it, I’m going after my friends.

Read into that what you will.

So when these books do eventually come out and you’re sitting there having a little read witnessing a particularly gruesome death (an evisceration perhaps?) Just think, that’s someone I love. And they don’t deserve it at all.

It’s a funny old world.

Zombies, ghosts and nunchucks. What shenaniganary is this?!

Yes, that’s a word (maybe)

A short post here, ladies and gents… I wrote a daft zombie story set in the 90s. A kid dies and comes back as a ghost while his body reanimates as a zombie. He then spends the night trying to summon his inner Patrick Swayze in order to stop the damn thing eating all his loved ones and kickstarting the zombie apocalypse. Erm, in Redcar. My hometown. S

So, yeah. Really high-brow stuff.

But someone wants to publish it! 🤣

I got the official letter today. So watch this space for zombies, ghosts and erm… nunchucks.

It’s easy to get a publisher, right?


It turns out I keep this online diary almost as consistently as I keep my personal diary, i.e. hardly ever. This is quite normal for me. I seem to work in flurries of madness separated by long periods of nothing. Well, I say nothing, but the old noggin is always ticking over. It’s like a bag of cats in there. If it’s any help, I have thought about what to write many times.

This diary entry is about my search for a publisher.

The moment I finished writing the book, I had the seed of belief that it was good enough to be put out there, that someone might get a titter out of it and think it was a good fit. This might sound arrogant but when you’ve written so much shit you notice the occasional diamond in the nugget. So I knocked up a hasty cover letter (rubbish), a synopsis (even worse), and started throwing it out into the ether.

I didn’t have a plan and I did next to no research.

And I got results!

Almost immediately. I’m not kidding. I sent the book out on a Sunday and had a reply on Tuesday with an offer of publication. I was stoked! This never happens. This was my shining moment, all that hard work paid off, you love me! You really love me!

And then they asked for money. A lot of money.

Not a publisher.

(In case you’re starting out and you have questions about this, the answer is quite simple… a legit publisher will NEVER ask you for money. Ever.)

I was gutted, but then the next week I received another email, this time from a publisher who only read the first 30 pages… they wanted the rest. Happy days! Back in business!

A week after that they sent me a contract!

And a bill.

Here’s the thing. That bill was remarkably smaller than the first. We’re talking a few hundred instead of a few thousand, and so I was tempted. Really tempted.

At this point my wonderful wife stepped in and did the research I should have done myself. She discovered that the fee I was being asked for was exactly one hundred pounds more than the fee charged by a certain online company that specialises in getting self-published texts ready for ebook distribution. It seemed like another scam, but I was still reeling from the first let-down and thought it might be worth a punt anyway.

Then I saw the cover designs.

Holy snapping duck crap Batman! The font being used for many of the titles was that dodgy ‘Word Art’ thing you get in old editions of Microsoft Publisher and PowerPoint. You know the one, black outline with yellow and orange ‘flames’ in the text. It was the title for every 90s kid’s comic sans created short story. And the less said about the images the better.

(I know you probably want to see some of these but I’m a gentleman – ahem! – and won’t tattle-tale – each to their own and all that. More power to them.)

Did I run away? You’d think so, but not quite. I was still tempted. Other publishers were getting back to me with polite but firm rejections. There was still hope here.

But then I read the contract and there were two clauses that changed everything,

1) I would retain the rights to the original manuscript but any edited manuscript (and all its contents and characters) would become the property of the publisher.

2) I had to take all the swearing out.

No way, get fucked, fuck off! Those fucking characters are fucking mine! I fucking love them! They’ve been rattling around my stupid fucking brain for twenty fucking years!

FYI: The Book and the Blade contains…

38 variations of fuck

15 shits

4 twats

2 bastards

and a partridge in a pear tree.

Needless to say, I walked away.

But then another publisher said yes!

Then they went bankrupt.

Three strikes, you’re out!

I was about ready to give up but I decided to give it one last punt. This time, I would do it properly. This time, I would do my research. This time, I would look for publishers that specialised in my kind of story. And so I did. I created an excel spreadsheet and everything, so you know I was being serious. I categorised every publisher I found in order of preference and at the top of the list emerged an independent publishing house in the USA with a clear sense of style, humour, and an interest in the macabre that mirrored exactly what I was looking for.

But they weren’t taking submissions.

So I waited. I polished the manuscript. I did a better cover letter. Wrote a better synopsis. And then I sat up until midnight on the day the submissions opened and sent it in at 12:01.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

(Apart from the video they asked me to film as a ‘getting to know potential authors’. We don’t talk about that.)

So here we are. Without research… 15 publishers. 3 dodgy yeses. 5 rejections. 5 no responses. And 2 incorrectly addressed emails on my part.

With research… my first choice publisher working hard to bring my book to the world in 2022.

As the incomparable Sir Terry Pratchett said,

“If you trust in yourself. . . and believe in your dreams. . . and follow your star. . . you’ll still get beaten by people who spent their time working hard and learning things and weren’t so lazy.”

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2MJzbST

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-book-and-the-blade

Where have you been?

Years ago I ploughed my way through Frank McCourt’s books because one of my students was reading Angela’s Ashes and raving about it in class, so I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. I read the same book, loved it, and decided to read everything else he had written as well. Somewhere along the way, I came across a quote that really resonated with me. I think it must have been in Teacher Man but I’m not a hundred per cent sure so don’t quote me, ahem, while I quote him…

“I was teaching 11,000 students 33,000 lessons over 28 years. I was too busy to write.”

Frank McCourt

Too busy to write. I hear that all the time. Usually from my own lips. But the truth is I’ve written more in this last year than I ever have before. The Book and the Blade comes out in 2022 and I have a finished sequel, the first draft of a third, and 55k words of a fourth to follow it up with. Then there are short stories and a few little extras flitting around that I’m toying with. In November alone I wrote somewhere in the region of 60k words in what my wife would call a fever, somehow fitting that in around my job… as a teacher. And the thing is, that left me with very little time or energy to put anything down for this website. So here it sits, a neglected and forgotten little corner of the World Wide Web. But one of the great joys of being a teacher, especially a teacher in Australia, is the summer holidays. So after I’ve had a wee bit of a rest and recovered from smashing my way through a few litres of egg nog in 38 degrees I might carve out some time to do this whole social media/internet thing properly. I checked the stats… at least three people visit here a day (Woah! Woah! Calm down, Finlayson. Don’t let the fame go to your head now!) so it would probably be nice if they had something to read.

And here is a pic of a grotesque (not a gargoyle) in York Minster for no reason other than he looks awesome (and I also think it looks like he’s stroking the ear of a quizzical puppy but my kids just think I’m seeing things)

Take care lovely people,

Until next time