Good morrow ladies and gentlemen. I’m at a writer’s retreat (aka my mate Steve’s):
Note the blobfish slippers. Anyway, I’ll have to keep this brief so here’s a short absurdist bizarro story of mine illustrated by my love puffin Bill Purnell. Enjoy!
I think we can all agree that it’s far too hot to think. If you’re one of those people who likes the sun then, well, nothing really, just carry on liking the sun and I’ll carry on hiding from it. However I will share with you a web series that I’m continually inspired and fascinated by, Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared.
When I saw the first one, many moons ago, I thought to myself, “what the hell is this?” Then I reached the surprise ending and I was in love. I shared the first episode with the other new authors of Eraserhead Press and we all agreed it was really about us and our editor was the writing pad.
However, I think the third is my favourite. If ever I were to utter the words “This is my aesthetic” it would be about that: a veneer of rainbows and cute, while underneath something very unpleasant lurks. Plus it has a catchy song.
So, without further ado, here’s Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared 1-6
This blog post made me chuckle, thought I’d share it with you. Taken from the “ragged notebook of an unidentified LA reporter…”
Ok, so I’ve found quite a few great books in charity shops, but there’s often a hidden gem which you truly can’t believe was written. Here are some of those…
Not only is this a biography of Noel Edmunds, it’s an unauthorised biography. This person loved him so much they didn’t even need his permission to start writing. I wonder if he knows…
I was given the title of this tiny flash fiction by G Arthur Brown and wrote from there. I like to think it gives a whole new meaning to the term ‘adult baby.’
Apparently in some European countries Krampus is the dark side of Santa, and follows him around doling out payback to all the children who’ve been naughty. Have a look at the blog post and show your children whenever they misbehave and you’re rich enough to pay for therapy sessions once they get older.
Have a look at this blog post on Pretty Awful Things, it’s apparently a joke recipe for an April Fool’s Day by a famous Medieval chef but we know better, don’t we? I imagine he kept this and his boiled goblins in the back for special occasions. Could be a good idea for Christmas dinner?
Good morning. I awoke to discover this story of mine had been placed on Bizarro Central’s website, come have a peek. It’s about, well, a butterfly gay club in my hedge.
Have a read of this post in which fake first sentences were submitted in all genres to tickle the eyes and rib cages of all concerned. Mmm, rib cages.
Read their description below and then follow the link to have a peek at the submissions:
“Every year, the announcement of Bulwer-Lytton Prize is a gift from bad writing heaven. Inspired by novelist and playwright Edward George Bulwer-Lytton’s famous “it was a dark and stormy night” opener, the contest asks writers to submit an opening sentence for the “worst of all possible novels” — although Fifty Shades of Grey has already been written. The results are perennially astounding, with entries in every genre from Children’s Literature to Spy Novels, and one sentence awarded the dubious honor of the worst sentence of the year. It’s like the Razzies, but better.
Here are some of the best entries from the past decade of the contest, each of them just as wonderfully atrocious as the next. Think you can write a sentence that’s worse? Leave your (unofficial) submission in the comments.”
Simple, free and written by me. Go here to read my absurdist flash fiction on The Strange Edge.