Discombobulated


  1. I knew you guys wouldn’t believe me.

    I wasn’t just lounging around in that photo. Not shown was my notebook bulging with wonderful words. Over-fucking-flowing with brilliant sentences. Packed to the gills with paragraphs of heart-stopping beauty and crystalline insight. A story of such depth and complexity that OK I was slightly drunk and had written a couple of pages which I’m unable to read today because my handwriting got a little, um, inventive.

    I love being a writer.

  2. I am a “Local author” writing “Fiction we recommend”, but there are five days until Christmas and Waterstone’s book shop has sold out of my novel. Look at the abyss, the yawning, nay, gaping void, the vortex of nothingness where a stack of Advice for Strays should be. Order more, Waterstone’s staff, and be quick about it!
(It makes me feel wonderful that folks are buying it, you know. Still. Really wonderful. I do hope they like it.)

    I am a “Local author” writing “Fiction we recommend”, but there are five days until Christmas and Waterstone’s book shop has sold out of my novel. Look at the abyss, the yawning, nay, gaping void, the vortex of nothingness where a stack of Advice for Strays should be. Order more, Waterstone’s staff, and be quick about it!

    (It makes me feel wonderful that folks are buying it, you know. Still. Really wonderful. I do hope they like it.)