GOTCHA! Take that, Mr Alien Invader Chappie

Disturbing news has flooded the …Time? Lord…™ communication channels. An unscrupulous mastermind posing as a writer is invading unguarded blogs accompanied by alien hordes of cloned Jane Austen characters. The fiend is causing untold painful mirth and seducing the reading public with devious enticements and cunning sales pitches. I mentioned this unfortunate affair on a recent visit to the fragrant Miss Austen’s Hampshire residence, whereupon, quite naturally, she called upon …Time? Lord…™ for assistance.

There’s little point in being a …Time? Lord…™ if you don’t employ your temporal assets to good effect. One little known disadvantage of time travel, however, is an irresistible tendency to mimic the most recent character you’ve met. So, after visiting Miss Austen I stopped off at Warmington-on-Sea, ostensibly for advice on dealing with alien invasion but in truth to disguise an embarrassing Regency falsetto.

Pay attention. Your alien invader chappie is full of ideas of world domination and thinks he can fool us by wearing simple disguises like Regency bonnets and ladies underwear… There’s nothing at all odd about the ladies underwear of course. I just thought I’d mention that. The aliens will have a leader, you’ll recognise him by his facial hair. Alien invasion leaders always have facial hair… very un-British.

Trust me, it's bigger inside.

My campaign to eradicate the blighter is a three-pronged affair: 1) mount a surprise attack 2) obtain a full confession 3) inflict awful punishment.

Right. Here goes Operation Impose Spanish Justice:

Phase One – The Surprise Attack

Aha! There he is. That bonnet did not fool me, Sir. You didn’t expect a stealth attack did you, Mr Alien-Leader-Chappie?

(Materialising in this red call box catches them out every time. Nobody expects the Spanish Imposition!)

So, what have you to say in your defence, Jonathan Pinnock? Is there any valid reason why …Time? Lord…™ should not, on behalf of the wronged Miss Jane Austen, give the perpetrator of the alleged literary work known as Mrs Darcy Versus the Aliens a good kick in the tentacles?

Alleged?! I'll have you know I was commissioned by the good lady herself. Do you think you're the only one with a time machine around these parts? "Jonny boy," she says to me, "All this zombie business has gone too far. What we need is a return to basics. Reboot the franchise." And you don't argue with the likes of Miss Austen.  So I say, "How about vampires, then?" and she says, "Come off it, mate. And no bleeding werewolves either. Think outside the box." So I go away and have a bit of a ponder. When I come back I say to her, "What about aliens?" and she sighs and says "Yeah, whatever." Well, it's well past gin o'clock by this time and she doesn't do fine print once she's had a few. So that's how we ended up with aliens. Works for me.

Phase Two – The Confession

Weasel alien words of  desperation if ever I heard them. And I suppose you thought I wouldn't spot that awful pun about the box?  We do the puns, Sir. No, you’re not so cocky in the face of cold British silliness, are you Mr Alien-Leader-Chappie Pinnock? Confess the full history and extent of your nefarious literary undertakings and hope for mercy:

Oh all right then. Here's the skinny. Had this idea for an alien sequel to Pride and Prejudice way back in 2007, got derailed by that zombie book, stopped writing it, started writing it again, didn't get a publisher, eventually serialised it on the web, found an audience, found a publisher. The book finally made it into the shops at the start of September, where it's on promotion in WHSmith in the UK and also on sale in most branches of Waterstone's as well as all the usual online places, including - much to my amazement - the Jane Austen Centre Online Giftshop. The story? Well, it's a genuine sequel to Pride and Prejudice, with aliens. But there's much more than that. There are ghosts, dirigibles and a pigeon called Colin. There's Lord Byron and there's Charlotte Collins on laudanum. And a lot of tentacles. It is indeed the most fun you can have with a bonnet on.

Harrumph! A likely story. You may enter your tweet of mitigation in fewer than 140 characters before I pass sentence:

In our darkest hours, a great work of art will often emerge to delineate our hopes and fears. This is not that work. But it may provide a laugh or two whilst we're waiting.

Phase Three – The Punishment [dons black cap]

Aha! Your silver-tongued eloquence will not save you, Alien, condemned as you stand by your innate Jonny-foreigner inability to count. Your crimes against Miss Austen and the holders of diverse blogs and domains are of such a witty, hilarious and titillating nature that I have no option but to subject you to the most severe punishment at my disposal. You are therefore sentenced to have inflicted upon your reputation in perpetuity the stain of having received an Oscar’s Oscar – Hi Five.

Take that! And let it be a lesson to you.

Floating an Idea or two, or fifty-six

When is a good time to launch a book? 

Verulam Writers' Circle's anthology, The Archangel and the White Hart, has been available on Lulu since February and on Amazon since April,  but VWC wisely decided to save their official launch party until the long warm evenings of Summer.

So, if you can make it to Waterstone's in St Albans at around 7:00pm on Thursday, 7th July there'll be a complimentary glass of wine with your name on it and your own copy of The Archangel and the White Hart, for a very small outlay, that we believe you'll enjoy and value. Many VWC authors will be there to give readings, to chat, and to sign your personal copy.

The Archangel and the White Hart's authors include Toby Frost, author of the Space Captain Smith books and Jonathan Pinnock, winner of the Scott Prize 2011, editor of the Archangel and the White Hart and author of this year's million-seller-to-come Mrs Darcy Verses the Aliens.

I do hope you can be with us to celebrate on Thursday 7th July in St Albans where good things happen… unless, of course, your name happens to be Alban.

World Book Night: An Epilogue

World Book Night has taken me longer to write up than any event I can recall. Most of my review pieces take shape fast, organically, from clear impressions. But for some inexplicable reason I’ve found it hard to get a handle on WBN. What was that all about?

After several weeks of fruitless pondering I was approaching cerebral meltdown. In a fit of what I hope was inspiration, I decided to explain WBN to an imaginary friend – one who’d been incommunicado in solitary for a year – in order to clear my head. The conversation went something like this:

OWS: Yes, they’re calling it World Book Night. It’s new this year.
IF: That’ll be the night of World Book Day, then?
OWS: No. It’s three days later.
IF: World Book Day encourages children to read. I guess World Book Night is aimed at the world’s non-reading adults?
OWS: No. UK only.
IF: But directed at non-readers?
OWS: Not exactly. They’re attempting to give away a million books.
IF: Attempting?
OWS: That’s what they say: The biggest book giveaway ever attempted.
IF: Sounds very charitable.
OWS: Yes. And on the night before WBN there’s a grand bash for the book givers with famous writers and other celebs in Trafalgar Square. Oh, and there’ll be limited edition T-shirts, too.
IF: Sounds a lot like Band Aid?
OWS: Yes. Only this event is free and…
IF: There are no bands?
OWS: Yeah.
IF: And there’s no aid?
OWS: …I suppose… But think of all those free books. They’ll be passed from reader to reader for years. There’s no knowing how many people they’ll reach.
IF: That could fulfil the ‘World’ bit, then?
OWS: Indeed. And the 25 chosen titles will be specially printed for WBN.
IF: Specially printed?
OWS: Uh, huh.
IF: Doesn’t that make them limited edition – you know – collectors’ items?
OWS: …I guess.
IF: Won’t there be temptation to hang on to the books, maybe to collect all 25 titles?
OWS: Now you’re just being cynical.
IF: How many givers did you say?
OWS: 20,000
IF: That’s an awful lot of people in Trafalgar Square to collect their reward.
OWS: No worries. It’s limited to 2,500 pairs of tickets: first come first served.
IF: Won’t that – sort of – limit the take-up to the South East?
OWS: Possibly. But don’t forget the Antony Gormley designed T-shirts.
IF: Of course – there’ll be 20,000 T-shirts.
OWS: No. 1,000: first come first served.
IF: So… first to arrive on WBN will get T-shirts?
OWS: Ah… No.
IF: First to arrive at Trafalgar Square will get T-shirts?
OWS: Not quite.
IF: Who does get T-shirts then?
OWS: First to arrive at Waterstones in Piccadilly, the day before Trafalgar Square.
IF: Ah… That’s pretty much the book givers who work in or around London, eh?
OWS: Mmmm…
IF: And they’re planning to do all this again next year?
OWS: So it seems.

I based that fantasy exchange on a view from before the event of course.  Had I told my imaginary friend that we’d been requested to enter manually in each book a 10-digit code – received only a day before Trafalgar Square – he might well have pleaded to be locked up again. Especially given that anyone receiving a manually coded WBN book will be unlikely to have the slightest idea what the code means or what to do with it (For the record: it’s intended to make the book traceable on a website called BookCrossing.com).

I should explain that, at the time of my becoming involved with WBN, I had no idea there were to be perks for the givers. I submitted my application in response to a TV advert in 2010 as one of the ‘givers’ to distribute a million books because it seemed like a good idea to encourage others to read. In short, I believed I was offering to take part in an essentially charitable undertaking.

In fairness I must add that from a viewpoint of my personal satisfaction World Book Night was a success. The Trafalgar Square event was a blast. Terrific atmosphere. Cool in every sense. And my own book-giving event cemented friendships within Verulam Writers Circle, with Radio Verulam presenter Danny Smith and with Sean, the helpful manager at Waterstones, St Albans. Yes, WBN and its precursor event proved to be fun and memorable. But what was WBN really all about?

Friends from Verulam Writers' Circle with Radio Verulam's Danny Smith at Waterstones, St Albans on WBN

Perhaps a writer with excessive imagination might liken World Book Night to the irrational convulsions of a doomed giant in denial. But I couldn't possibly comment. Anyway, worry not. If a leviathan is expiring it is the legacy world of paper publication: AKA the treebook trade. Publishing – you'll be relieved to hear – is alive and well. At least Ebooks and their authors are thriving, or so it seems.  < NB This link connects to a long piece. But it's one not to miss if you need to know the latest buzz about publishing. [CONTENT WARNING: Do, please, ignore the "monkey" link if you’re easily offended]

Penultimately, a prediction: Electronic delivery – on one platform or another – will dominate book publishing within two years, supplying our reading needs without ever completely replacing codex (paper) books. The codex book though will fast become a luxury item, a lifestyle statement saying: 'This is who I am'. When this metamorphosis is complete only the best-loved and most prestigious works will transfer to paper. Then more than ever you’ll judge a person’s credibility by checking out the spines of their Kafka and their Joyce.

So prepare for some shake-ups in the immediate future of publishing. It will still be book publishing but certainly not as we know it.  Maybe – in the fullness of time – this will prove to be what World Book Night was really all about?