The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men

Gang aft agley,

An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,

For promis’d joy!
To a Mouse by Robert Burns

Or, for those who don’t speak “Burns” – sometimes good plans go tits up.

And so it is with my debut book series.

A few days ago, I posted on social media that the 4th Arthur Crazy book has been cancelled and I jokingly blamed Trump. The truth is that’s not entirely a lie, so I figured I’d take some time to explain.

In July 2020, I signed a deal with Parliament House Press for the Arthur Crazy series. The Book and the Blade was the debut, picked up by the wonderful Mike Feeney and it all sort of went from there. Before I knew it, I had a trilogy, and then a fourth, and the deal was for all of them. I was working with wonderful people, living the dream, and all was right with the world. The best laid schemes and all that…

About a week ago, I sent an email to the publisher asking for details about the upcoming fourth book… and was told there would not be an upcoming fourth book.

Gutted.

Now, to be clear, the email was lovely and polite and very honest… essentially, there are simply not enough resources to be putting out another book. It’s a general ‘state of the world’ scenario for a small, independent press based in the USA. So, I blame Trump, because he’s a dick.

Fun fact though, I went looking for the Publishers Marketplace statement for when the deal was struck and found that it only listed a three-book deal. I’d entirely forgotten about that mistake. The image below was sent to me years ago by the publisher with an explanation that it would be fixed up (because I did indeed sign a four-book deal) but I guess maybe it was written in the stars from the start?

So, what happens next?

The truth is, I have no idea. I am genuinely gutted and honestly struggling to find the motivation. The fourth Arthur book is ready – it has been for some time – and is very different from the first three in that it is written from Arthur’s point of view. I think it’s the best one yet (I would, though, wouldn’t I) Hell, it’s even got a little bit of nookie! But I just don’t know what to do with it. I could try and see if another publisher would be interested but that would cause all sorts of problems with the rights – because PHP have already published the others. I could have the rights of those three reverted back to me, but then I would have to republish them independently. Or I could self-publish the fourth, which I’ve done before, but it’s a shit-ton of work, and I’m bound to balls it up. Plus, I’m already working on something big (and orc-like) for later in the year. Oh, and I’m also supposed to be releasing my novella Egg in a few weeks, but I’ve hit a wall. Hell, even this website is due for renewal.

As you may have guessed, I’ve spiralled into a little bit of ‘doing sod-all’ self-pity.

So, as I often do when I find myself floundering like this – after drinking way too much and generally being a big old cranky-pants – I turn to Sir Terry Pratchett for inspiration.

“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.”
The Wee Free Men – Terry Pratchett

Sigh. He’s always right, isn’t he. Always. The git.

I guess I’ve got some work to do (although I still don’t know what).

The Grey Lady of York

There are that many “grey ladies” in York it is sometimes hard knowing where to begin. The Holy Trinity Church on Micklegate has one, so does The Theatre Royal, The Treasurer’s House, King’s Manor, Lady Peckett’s Yard… and I used to make up stories for American tourists when I worked at The Judge’s Lodgings regarding apparitions in The Tower Room – the more lovelorn and tragic, the better the tips!

It seems there is something as enticing about the spectre of monochromatic women as there is about the lost boys from my previous post. They really capture our imagination. Perhaps it is the tragic events in their lives that brings these ladies back, or perhaps it is the tragedy thrust upon them that makes right-minded (and somewhat romantic) folks like myself hope for their story to continue?

I find ghost stories are usually all stories of hope – a soul lingers due to unfinished business, to make amends, as punishment that will one day end.

Nearly all Grey Ladies share tragedy in common. Murdered by a jealous spouse, condemned for love, broken-hearted, betrayed, beaten. Very few of the stories of the Grey Ladies are cheerful (what ghost stories are?) but I particularly liked the one associated with the church on Micklegate. It was one of the first ghost stories I read about in York and I knew when it came to writing The Book and the Blade that I had to include it.

The white lady appeared. Tall, beautiful, and stern. She walked across the front of the church with a purposeful gait and only paused when she reached the end of the building. There she turned and beckoned for her daughter and the nurse that accompanied her; this was their nightly routine—the pattern they were forced to replay every evening.
The Book and the Blade.

Ah look, I know I changed her colour a little but there were so many Grey Ladies I had to mix it up a bit. In fact, by the time I was about 50k words in and drowning in research notes on the many many York ghosts, I had the inkling of an idea that would come to be one of my favourite parts of the novel…

The Council of the Grey Ladies

The Council of the Grey Ladies emerged out of a perceived necessity to “bring the dead together” and gave rise to lots of half-hearted jokes along the lines of “community spirits.” But, as ghostly councils go, it is a relatively new organisation. In fact, in living terms, the group has only been gathering for the better part of ten years. It took one Irene Napier to gather the disparate ghosts and bring them together as a collective.
The Book and the Blade

Because if you have a city with that many Grey Ladies wandering around, it makes sense they might bump into each other! It just took the right sort of ghost to get them organised. Enter… Irene Napier.

Busy was a word entirely insufficient when used to describe Irene Napier, and now that she didn’t have the need for sleep, she was a force of nature in her own right. The fact her husband had died two days after she, and then entirely failed to join her on this plane of existence, is a testament to that. He couldn’t live without her, but the thought of spending eternity standing in a corner figuratively holding the coats was enough to make him jump through the door at the earliest opportunity.
The Book and the Blade

A friend of mine – the talented Mark Boardman – who read the very early drafts of The Book and the Blade said he wanted to know more about Irene Napier. So do I when I look back on it now. Who knows, in the future, there might be some “Arthur Crazy” spin-offs.

Actually, I have written a Queen Katheryn Howard graphic novel tie-in but that’s getting way ahead of myself!

Anyway, the Grey Ladies. Bloody wonderful they are! Just don’t try and cheat at bingo. You’ll never hear the end of it.

Thanks for reading.

If The Book and the Blade seems like something you might like to read, please check this link for your best buying options (or ask your friendly neighbourhoos librarian). And if you have read it, please consider leaving a rating or review where ratings and reviews are left… they make such a huge difference.

Cheers folks!

Alex

The One Where I was a Guest Author at my Local Library… 10,000 Miles Away!

A few weeks ago, I had the honour of being a guest author at an event hosted by Redcar and Cleveland Libraries. I grew up in Redcar and set my comedy/horror novella, Rock Zombie, there. It is my hometown, it is where I went to school, and where most of my family still live. I love the place. I was contacted by the lovely Debbie, who found my book and asked if I would be interested in giving a little talk at an event for local authors. I was thrilled. But then the reality of logistics kind of got in the way… ten thousand miles’ worth of ‘logistics’ that is.

I live in Australia now but the idea of giving a talk in my local library was too good to pass up. Thankfully, Debbie is a legend and quickly got to work organising a Zoom/Skype/Teams/Whatever-it’s-called alternative to an in-person show… we even had a little practice the night before… and then it was time for the big day.

I can’t tell you how much this meant to me.

Actually, that’s bollocks. I should at least try, I am a writer after all!

It meant a lot.

I was one of those kids who just didn’t really know where I fit in. The 90s was a bizarre time to be a teenager and I was, in my own words, a bit of a gobshite. I danced that precarious teenage dance of trying to fit in everywhere, and with everyone, and never quite getting any of it right. I flitted about all over town, between all the different groups and substrata of society, but always at the centre of this maelstrom of angst, hormones, Nirvana, and Spice Girls, there was Redcar Library.

The funny thing is, Redcar Library as I remember it sadly no longer exists, and the ‘local author’ event actually took place in Loftus, a few miles away… which also happens to be where my dad lives. I’ll be honest, I was a bit gutted about this, as I think some small part of me had always dreamed about returning to that original library as an author, but that’s a bit hard to do after it’s been knocked down!

I was also getting cold feet before the event because I wondered how many people would actually turn up. Due to the time difference, my slot was midday (9pm for me) and, let’s be honest, I am absolutely NOT suitable for kids! Plus, most of my friends and family were on holiday so I genuinely thought there was a good chance it would just be me, Debbie, and Dad.

When the camera turned on… it was indeed me, Debbie, and Dad, but also my Uncle Mike (who I dedicated the third Arthur Crazy novel to (The Saint and the Shadowman), and another lady whose name I (disgracefully) forget. A few minutes later we were joined by a few more and we got going.

And then a giant red-headed Viking walked in.

My best friend from school… Phil… turned up and sat at the back… my phone buzzed…

I relaxed then (the wine helped!) and had a bloody great hour chatting away with lovely people while trying to keep some of those embarrassing teenage secrets still secret from my dad and uncle. Phil, of course, asked how much of the book was based on personal experiences because only the absolute best of mates have zero hesitation dropping you right in it!

At one point, I confessed to ‘killing real people’ in Rock Zombie by taking surnames and forenames of people who pissed me off and putting them together. There was a titter of laughter from the crowd, a few seconds of pause, and then Phil burst out laughing when he worked two of them out!

I read a short passage in which the main character, Rob, runs through Redcar (after a horde of zombies, of course) and retraces his childhood memories. Most of those childhood memories were my own, and it was bloody wonderful seeing my dad and uncle in the front row nodding along (and laughing in all the right places!)

Debbie MC’d wonderfully and there were lots of insightful questions from her and the people in the room. It’s funny, but if I was asked them again I would probably give different answers. Phil, who knows me well, asked, “Apart from Terry Pratchett and Stephen King which other authors have inspired you?” I talked about Roald Dahl and loving his genius ability to craft a story… usually by putting the main character in danger and getting rid of the safety-nets. It’s an answer I stand by but I could have talked about anyone from a lifetime of reading… Cornwell, Gemmell, Blyton, Morrison, Tolkien, Herriot, Bryson, Le Guin, Stoker, Shelley, Lee, Hinton. The list goes on.

My uncle asked me if I plan my stories out and I had to confess that I barely know what is going to happen before the words appear on the screen. There are some occasions when I know the end, or the beginning, or a scene, but it is rarely – if ever – something I can control. And that’s my absolute favourite thing about the whole writing experience. The simple fact is, I do not see twists coming… even when I write them. That’s magic!

One of the highlights of the chat though was the lovely lady (a photographer) who told a story of being on South Gare (near the sea) and suddenly finding herself in the midst of a horde of zombies! Apparently, there is a decent sized cosplay/roleplay group in the local area. I’ll have to get in touch!

This was a really wonderful and unique experience and I’m incredibly grateful to Debbie for organising it and for everyone who came to listen and have a chat.

Thanks for reading!

Support your local library!

The ghost of Sarah Brocklebank

The tale of Sarah Brocklebank is a relatively well-known “ghost story” in York. There are many people who will be familiar with her but perhaps even more who know aspects of the story… but not the name. She’s…

The ghost on Micklegate Bar

The girl who lost the keys

Just a kid… it was her birthday

An old woman… she died of a heart attack

Stuck on the walls

Roams the city

That’s the problem with these sorts of tales… they get told and retold so many times (and often in pubs after a few drinks) that they become so embellished and overstuffed as to be almost unrecognisable from the “truth”. That’s not a complaint by the way, I mean, it’s literally what I do as a writer (and a husband, if you ask my wife!) and Mark Twain did famously say,

“Never let the truth get in the way of a good story.”

Sarah Brocklebank is the first ghost Arthur speaks to in The Book and the Blade and when I started writing her character I only had a few “facts”

Sarah was the daughter of Thomas Brocklebank.
Thomas was the “keeper of the keys” of Micklegate Bar
The keys went missing (supposedly, Sarah’s fault)
Thomas lost his job
The family were kicked out of their home and impoverished
Thomas never forgave Sarah and disowned her

There were other bits and bobs and snippets of information floating around in various dusty books, old newspapers, and shiny (albeit darkly aesthetic) blogs; mainly regarding Sarah’s age and the places she haunts.

For my part, I placed Sarah in her mid-20s, I kept the loss of the keys, the family ruin, and Thomas blaming her, but I had Sarah’s ghost suspended in a moment of time before the family were made destitute. In The Book and the Blade, Sarah is frantically searching for the keys all over the city, starting at Micklegate Bar, heading into Holy Trinity church, then the heart of the city and St Helen’s Square. Each night, Sarah is fated to hunt for the keys and return them to her father “before it is too late.” The instant she finds them, however, the night restarts and Sarah appears back on the walls at Micklegate. This has been her existence for over 200 years and has driven her quite mad, which is understandable… especially when you learn that it was her little sister who lost the keys and Sarah took the blame (this little addition appeared in the first draft of the novel and was cut out at some point, but there are still hints. It is also entirely made up).

Like many ghost stories, Sarah’s is one of unfulfilled longing and unrealised destiny. She is the quintessential “hungry ghost” — never quite able to achieve satisfaction, and doomed to spend eternity trapped in a cycle of misery… until the night she meets Arthur Crazy.

Sarah shivered. She was tired. Deep down tired within the very core of her being. But she couldn’t give up. Those keys meant everything, and she had to find them. Tonight was her last chance. Without the keys, her father—her family—lost everything.

It is also worth mentioning that Micklegate Bar used to be a museum of sorts and apparently contained a statue of a young girl dressed in old clothing. In one hand she held a basket but the other was empty. So the staff there gave her a set of keys to complete the look. Perhaps Sarah’s whole story is a bit “chicken and egg” but I think it’s more fun to follow the advice of Mr Twain.

Cheers,

Alex

The Arthur Crazy Trilogy:

The Book and the Blade

The Sword and the Hounds

The Saint and the Shadowman

The Black Cats of York

The Book and the Blade started out as a stray thought in the back of a drunk kid’s head. Me. I was that drunk kid. I was 18 years old and trying to make my way back through the city of York to my student accommodation. I’d only been at uni for a few weeks but I was already in love with the city. Cobbled streets, historic buildings, a rumoured 365 pubs within the walls, and more ghost stories and folklore than you could shake a bunch of sage at. Imagine if you got so drunk you could talk to ghosts, I thought. But you wouldn’t know it, because you were so drunk. Well, that’s how it started… and about twenty years later I wrote it down.

One of my favourite things about The Book and the Blade – and the subsequent Arthur Crazy novels – has been researching the myths and legends of the city and figuring out ways to weave them into the narrative. In the third book, The Saint and the Shadowman (released last month), it is revealed that Arthur himself has a list.

The list was actually two A4 pieces of lined paper folded together with neat writing on both sides. Arthur had wanted a Moleskine diary, but they were so bloody expensive, so he just nicked some paper from the office and got to work. It was a list of names and places and other notes. Some had been crossed out. Some had been added to. Some were detailed and some were vague.
The Saint and the Shadowman

Well, the list exists and I thought it might be fun to share it with everyone. And because I’m a much bigger nerd than Arthur (and I also don’t have a Moleskine diary… anymore) I decided to create some ‘playing card’ style graphics to go along with it.

Those with an eagle-eye for certain aspects of nerdery might recognise a nod or two to the classic Hero Quest tabletop game.

The first card off the deck is, The Black Cats.

Black cats are often regarded as being harbingers of ill fortune and bad luck and are treated with suspicion and distrust. I am guilty of this throughout the three Arthur Crazy books (well, Arthur is) but I shouldn’t be. As Arthur’s mum rightly says in The Sword and the Hounds,

“You’re in Yorkshire now, Father. Nothing unlucky about a black cat crossing your path here. Quite the opposite in fact.”
The Sword and the Hounds

Black cats are a sign of good luck in York and the surrounding country, so much so that the city has pretty much adopted them as an unofficial mascot. Statues of cats have appeared on the walls and rooftops for over two hundred years. In fact, ‘The Cat Trail’ makes for a pretty good walking tour if you fancy something different from a packed Coney Street.

The story goes that the original statues were intended to act as ‘scarecrows’ to scare off the disease-infected rats and mice, but of course this is Yorkshire we’re talking about, so there’s also the added bonus of warding off evil spirits. Arthur’s first realisation that something might be amiss comes when he sees a black cat do a fairly passable David Bowie impression (a la Labyrinth) and defy physics to run up a vertical wall. Mind you, now that I think about it, we used to have a cat that could pretty much do the same thing (she used to perch on the top of the door) so maybe it was all in Arthur’s head?

The cats in The Book and the Blade aren’t just comedy asides and unsubtle foreshadowing, however, in fact two specific felines take centre-stage about midway through. These are the cats of one Lord Acaster… the ghost of a Royalist officer cursed to spend eternity tending to his wounded soldiers in what is now Ye Olde Starre Inne pub on Stonegate (but we’ll get to that) and Arthur wouldn’t have got very far without them.

SEMI-SPOILERS AHEAD:

There perhaps should have been a trigger warning in The Book and the Blade because not all of our furry little friends make it through the night. Although I can reliably inform you that one particular unfortunate feline does in fact have 6 lives left. I know this because a) I wrote it, and b) I have a little black cat with a number 6 tattooed on my upper arm thanks to my tattoo-gun-wielding friend Amy… because I’m from Yorkshire, remember. Where black cats are lucky.

Thanks for reading,

Cheers!

Future ‘Arthur Crazy’s List’ entries will include Sarah Brocklebank, The Grey Lady, Headless Percy, Mansion House, and the Fetch.

Arthur Crazy #3 – The Saint and the Shadowman – and some other stuff.

On July 22nd, 2025 – if Cyclone Alfred doesn’t wipe us out in the meantime – the third Arthur Crazy book will be hitting the shelves!

The Saint and the Shadowman picks up a few months after the events of book 2 and takes place back in the beautiful, haunted city of York. But it’s the height of summer… there can’t be that many ghosts kicking around when the sun sets at 1030pm, right? I guess we’ll have to wait and see.

I’ve been spectacularly slack with my blog updates since Rock Zombie and Sleigh: Reindeer Games 3 came out but I think it’s about time I remedied that. You might notice – if you fancy a rummage in the undercarriage – that this little website has had a bit of a spring clean. I got rid of some faffery and streamlined the whole deal to try and make it seem a bit more… professional? I’m not sure if that is the right word for me. And I will endeavour to post more frequent updates and perhaps take this whole thing a bit more seriously. Well, it can’t be any worse than arguing with strangers on Threads can it!

The truth is, I sat down today – a bizarre and random day off work because we live in the path of Tropical Cyclone Alfred – and I decided to roll the dice one last time for a few of my books.

It was… exhausting.

I LOVE having a publisher, and the work Parliament House Press have done on the Arthur Crazy books is bloody brilliant, but it’s a hard slog trying to find another publisher to take on my other books. And with Rock Zombie – and the Reindeer novellas – I had a lot of fun doing it by myself. Oh sure, I sold feck all but it was fun!

Maybe I’m just tired? Or maybe I should just suck it up and crack on.

To self-publish or not to self-publish… that is the question.

Actually, what was this post about? Oh yeah… The Saint and the Shadowman… which IS being published!

Yep… “professional”

Arthur Crazy is hungover, but the dead don’t care about headaches.

The city of York is teetering on the edge of disaster. During a rare eclipse, the Shadowman casts a spell atop the Minster, trapping the city between the realm of the living and the dead. Ghosts flood the streets, and Arthur, with his best friend Steve, is the only one who can stop the chaos.

But Arthur’s not exactly in hero shape. Haunted by his past and drowning his sorrows in the nearest pint, he’s barely keeping it together. That is, until he meets Nae—a beautiful stranger who might just hold the key to helping him feel normal again.

Now, with the Shadowman’s spell tearing the veil between worlds, the city’s only hope rests on a washed-up hero, a saint from the Shambles, and a dog who won’t stop talking.
York needs a miracle. Arthur needs another drink.

Or maybe a Panadol and a panini.

PRE-ORDER HERE!

The Sword and the Hounds – the who, what, when, where and why?

Tomorrow is the 23rd of July 2024 and the day my second novel will be released into the wild. To say I’m a little nervous would be an understatement, but I am also very excited. Quite a few people read The Book and the Blade (the first in the Arthur Crazy series) and the reviews are (mostly) positive… except for one bloke who took exception to the fact the main character smokes too much and drinks too much. I mean, that’s kind of the point, but reader spaces are for readers, not for writers. He is absolutely entitled to his opinion. But I digress. I wonder if he’ll read what happens next? Probably not.

The Sword and the Hounds follows directly on from the events of The Book and the Blade and tells the story after the story, so to speak. If The Book and the Blade was about Arthur getting to grips with an ability to communicate with the deceased, The Sword and the Hounds is about him coming to terms with the wider implications that the dead (and assorted bit n bobs n beasts) exist in the first place. It is the hangover after the big night out. There are… injuries. There are… gaps.

I wrote The Sword and the Hounds when we lived in York in 2019… just before COVID hit. If nothing else, it is a love-letter to the town of Richmond and the folklore of Yorkshire. As one of the characters expresses…

It’s Yorkshire. We’re all a little pagan around here.

But really it exists because I fell in love with Arthur and I fell in love with writing. Something clicked in me when I wrote The Book and the Blade and I knew I’d never look back. Even if they never see the light of day and no one reads them, I’ll never stop writing these stories. I’m not sure I can. Full disclosure… there are four complete Arthur novels, two complete tie-in novels, one obscure novel ‘set in the same world’, a script for a graphic novel, a half-written plan for the fifth, and a series of random notes for the sixth and seventh. If you’re along for the ride… it’s a long one… and it’s going to get bumpy! I hope you enjoy it!

But therein lies the rub… Amazon are not making it easy for people (mainly in Australia) to access my books. The price is astronomical and there is nothing my publisher and I can do about it… other than direct you elsewhere.

That’s the who (me), the what (The Sword and the Hounds), and the when (tomorrow) taken care of so now for the ‘where‘.

In a perfect world… your local independent bookshop. The more mysterious and confusing (and possibly a little creepy) the better. One of those old type of bookshops that vanishes like the emporium in the movie, Gremlins. You know what I mean… with corridors and stairs and hidden rooms that will eat you given half a chance. You go in aged 21 and come out with white hair and a sack full of books. Perfect. But if you don’t have one of them… please try my publisher… Parliament House Press. They distribute worldwide.

If you’re in Brisbane, I know Books@Stones have copies of The Book and the Blade in stock… and if they’re still there this time next week they’ll be signed (if they let me scribble in them) and they also have an online listing for The Sword and the Hounds. You’ll be able to order it in and support a local business at the same time. And THAT is the why! Galactic Overlord Bezos can’t have everything, surely!

Any local bookshop should be able to order The Sword and the Hounds… and in a perfect world, if enough people do, they might consider a permanent stock.

One last note for those in the U.K. – – – and this made me do a little happy dance. W.H. Smiths have an online listing for The Sword and the Hounds! That is an absolute dream come true for me! I loved shopping in Smiths when I was a kid (and an adult!) and the thought that you can order my book and pop in to pick it up is the stuff of “pinch-me-I’m-dreaming” fantasy. And I think it all has to do with one dude… the manager of Smiths in Richmond. He was really keen to get the book on the shelf and so we chatted a bit and he took my details. I called him yesterday to say thanks when I noticed the online listing (horrifyingly getting his surname wrong because I’m a forgetful nobhead) and, bizarrely, he said he wasn’t sure it was him. He has begun discussion with head office but couldn’t remember if he’d passed on my name or the name of the book. So… I reckon it is him… it must be… but if it isn’t, that means my little book got on the list at Smith organically. Which is also exceptionally cool. But I include this little anecdote because it illustrates something really important that hits every part of who, what, when, where, and why… every aspect of what I might call success has been achieved thanks to other people. People who read, who support, who encourage, who advise, who critique, and even people who tell me my characters smoke too much.

So, I’ll end this by saying a very heartfelt thank you to you all. If you’re reading this, I have no doubt that I owe you a debt of gratitude. Thank you!

Here’s looking forward to tomorrow and all the days after!

Cheers!

(I promise not to be too needy and metaphorically read over your shoulder over the coming weeks. Well, I’ll try really hard!)

Last days of the sale…

The Book and the Blade is on sale over on Amazon, ladies and gents. For the rest of the month (admittedly, not long) it will only cost a few dollars/pounds. So, now is the perfect time to have a little read of my comedy/horror about a drunk loner who sees dead people… because the sequel comes out soon!

There are currently four books in the Arthur Crazy series, with the second, The Sword and the Hounds, slated for the end of July… and there is even a chance that the third, The Saint and the Shadowman, will hit the shelves before the end of the year! Fingers crossed!

After that… well, things get a little odd. The Arthur Crazy series was originally a trilogy, but then the fourth seemed to come from nowhere, and… it’s a bit different. The fourth novel is called, I Draw the Line at ******* Vampires, and I had so much fun writing it.

Now my silly brain is even working on the fifth! Nothing is on paper yet, apart from a smattering of notes on Google Keep and one or two post-its shoved in a diary, but I have this ridiculous plan where all my books tie together in one glorious whole!

And with that, here are the links for The Book and the Blade should it strike your fancy…

Australia – $2.92 United Kingdom – £1.49 USA – $1.99 Canada – $1.99

Cheers folks,

All the best,

Al.

Fly my pretty!

Reflections on launching a book into the ether

At one point on Saturday I found myself sitting on the floor of a raised stage while all around me people I knew, people I’d just met, and people I’d never seen before talked and laughed and drank together. The pub was full, a long narrow hall of arcade machines and graffiti-covered walls pressing folk together to share tables and seats… something that could not have happened a year or so ago. Another book was thrust under my nose by a workmate whose grin told me he thought the whole thing was just as ridiculous and surreal as I did. We both laughed and I took another drink… a pint glass in one hand… a pen in the other. That was my name on the cover. My book.

“Sign this for me, mate!”

“Happy to!”

“Book wanker.”

“Yep!”

Saturday saw the launch of The Book and the Blade, and it was absolutely magic! For a few hours I stood, or sat, or leaned against Street Fighter II in a packed pub and talked about a book I wrote. I was surrounded by amazing people, and we were all there for something fun… and creative. The walls were covered in art, arcade games and pinball machines offered a nostalgic soundtrack, and for a short while I lived a dream.

In hindsight, I should have prepared. The writer should at least have written a speech, right? But I didn’t, and so when my friend, Mitch – our impromptu and excellent MC – introduced me to the crowded room I took hold of the mic in what might have been nervous fingers. But they weren’t… not when I got going… not when it mattered. It felt like the most natural thing in the world and I loved it! My wife and friends had made magic happen! I stood on a stage and looked out at the faces of people I knew and loved… friends and family from all over the country who had made the trip, new acquaintances I met in an online writing group who were even more awesome in real life, lovely guests, lovely strangers, and even a few amazing ex-students. Complete magic! It was a whirlwind. I started by thanking everyone but then gave special thanks to my wife… I read the dedication from the start of the novel and explained the truth behind it… the facetiousness… the tongue-in-cheek-ness.

All the best ideas are Kels. Including, and this cannot be stressed enough, to actually have a book launch in the first place!

It almost never happened.

I’m one of those strange characters who can seem a complete extrovert but will quite gladly do nothing if that is an option. I’d already written the book. Hell! It was already published. Doing nothing seemed to be a viable option to me… not to Kel. Only a month or so earlier to this mad day she convinced me to say yes to a launch. I remember the look on her face when I said, ‘Okay, babe. Make it happen.’ There was that smile I love so much followed by the frown of business and she got to work. She called Amy and that was that… game over, Al. Just turn up and do as you’re told!

(If you were there you would have met Amy! She was everywhere! A total legend! I hear her and Mitch even walked through the airport yesterday carrying a poster, still advertising my book!)

So, I did just that… as I was told. I stood up in a room full of people and spoke about my first novel… and I had a bloody great time! When there were gaps that threatened to spread into awkwardness, they were jumped on by Mitch and others who threw questions at me and the whole thing seemed so natural and wonderful that, honestly, I can’t quite believe it really happened. We sold every book and every single bit of merchandise (we had merchandise! Ridiculous!), we gave novellas away, and I signed my name wrong a hundred times, and it was just bloody lovely. People laughed and smiled and even applauded! (madness!) And then it just kept going… social media exploded (in a safe, localised and contained kind of way) with people saying the most wonderful things, and as much as I’m usually reluctant to write stuff like this for fear of tooting my own horn and sounding like an arrogant twat, I figure there are some instances where it’s okay, right? This was one. It was magic. And I loved every second.

My little book is in the world now. Officially launched. In the hands of the gods.

Kel tells me I have to stop being so self-deprecating when I finish these things or when I create ads on social media. “Stop saying I hope you enjoy my book… unless it’s shit”. That sort of thing. So, I promised her I wouldn’t. Not this time. This time I will absolutely not end by saying I hope people don’t think my book is shit.

See.

Much love!

The unprofessional professional

Let’s be honest, I’m not particularly good at this whole ‘professional author’ gig. The truth is, I’m not entirely sure I am one anyway, and I certainly won’t feel like I’m cresting that little hill until I hold my book in my hands. As I write this, my debut novel should have been out for four days (by the original plan) but due to some jiggery-pokery at my wonderful publishers, we have another few months to wait. So here I am, filling time until the release, wondering what it is ‘professional authors’ even do.

Apparently, author photographs are a thing… so I had a crack at that. All I can say is thank god for my mate, Pam, who is a(n actual professional) photographer because holy hell, I was not a professional photographee (is that even a word?)

This all came about because I started interacting in little ‘author worlds’ with people who actually are authors and they all had spanky shiny photographs on their various profiles. I, on the other hand, have a profile pic in which I’m a bit hammered and halfway down a Long Island Iced Tea… and a website ‘logo’ that looks like two deformed pigeons playing hide and seek (and with missing legs!) The publishers website looks like they’ve invited the works experience kid to play along with them… so we did something about it.

Pam is a legend. There’s a whole history there that I won’t go into but suffice to say, a few Sundays ago Pam and her lovely family rocked up at our place with all the gear and we had a blast. I’d cheekily asked Pam if she had a rock star kind of ‘rider’ – you know, requests for food and beer etc – she replied with ‘pulled lamb sliders, craft beer and purple MnMs’.

The only thing I couldn’t find was purple MnMs!

We had a ball! We drank craft beer, we ate sliders, and Pam worked her magic while I continued to drink and take the piss… because I am the unprofessional professional.

Last week, I got a batch of photographs through from Pam and despite the subject matter being me, they’re really fun. This is batch one of two. Pretty soon I’m going to have to pick which ones I’m going to use for where. Any suggestions?

(You can check out Pam’s amazing work at https://www.pjbphotography.com.au/)