I apologise. A strange object in the sky that some people describe as the Sun, has been responsible for me being dragged kicking and screaming away from my desk and out into the great unknown - my garden!
Therefore little has been done in the way of writing, however I have managed some promotion. I have not checked my sales to see if it has made any difference but I'm hopeful.
I have been looking into approaching some publishers though I must admit to procrastinating somewhat. No one likes rejection and I'm no different, and the thought of receiving all those rejection letters is not something I look forward to. But I promise, I will do it soon, honest.
I have a synopsis, an 108,000 word novel squeezed down into just two A4 pages. A feat in itself. So I will begin the process of rejection soon, I'm ready if not willing.
In other news, my very first publication, A Fly on the Ward, is still selling nicely but if anyone should feel the need to purchase my new novel, Animan, I would be grateful.
Thank you.

Dear father, I confess it has been a while since my last confession . . .

So I've been busy. Family matters and all related family issues have taken me away from writing over the last week or so. However, today I have received special permission to spend time working. Promotion has been the main order of the day, I've been advertising my wares across the nation via social media, not sure if it will be productive but one must try. It's the same as writing these blogs, I'm sure no one actually reads them.

I have asked my talented proofreader person to come up with a synopsis of my book, Animan, so I can begin the begging process of obtaining a publisher or literary agent. I'm useless at that sort of thing. On a more cheerful note, I've finally come up with an idea for Animan lll. I wasn't sure if I wanted to write another book, but when the idea hit me, I found I couldn't resist. Perhaps if I concentrate on one genre instead of roaming across subjects like a vagabond, I'll eventually sell more books. Who knows? Perhaps the world really is flat.
Till next time.

So, apart from writing, breathing, whining and writing, I also have a passion for motorcycles, vintage ones to be precise. No writing done over the last few days because I've been searching down spares for my 1958 BSA C12 bike. I enjoy it so any guilt about not writing is quickly forgotten.

I used to be a musician, teaching and gigging with groups, duets and very often solo. Any spare moment of every day I would pick up my guitar, mandolin or ukulele and play. Sadly now I seldom pick up an instrument as I no longer teach and I no longer gig. I miss it.

But my motorcycles keep me mechanically sane, can't speak for the rest of the time. Nonetheless, writing will resume in a short while. I am still publicising my first science fiction book, Animan, but work on Animan ll has stalled somewhat. If more of you would buy my books, I would certainly have the incentive to write more, or are you trying to tell me some thing?

Anyway, if you are amused or confused by my inane drivel, how about adding your name to my list of followers please? Go on, it won't hurt, I promise.

Finally! I've finally had a review for my book, Animan. It's quite a good review so I'll paste it in here, and no, I didn't write it myself. Here tis.

"I very much enjoyed this book! The author's description of being a stranger in a strange land kept me riveted to the end. The world in which the story was set had some intriguing cultural properties, and some science lessons were thrown in to add a unique twist to the narrative."

Good ain't it? I have had two good reviews on Goodreads but I've no idea what they said, just saw the 4 stars. So maybe the book is now moving? Maybe? Possibly? Sort of? I have no idea, we'll just have to wait, pray and see. 

Not written much recently, on here or on 2nd novel. Been a tad busy with sick and poorly grandchildren. I do mean to blog more but, you know, life gets in the way. 

On another point, although I'm in the process of editing Animan ll, I haven't actually written the end yet. I like to wait until I've read it, edited it, read it and edited it some more before adding the closing curtain. I find I know my characters inside out by that time and know which route they would most likely take. I know it sounds strange but to a writer, his/her characters become real people with their own traits, strengths and weaknesses. The ending of a book should reflect this. Least that's what I think, though . . . I could be wrong.

So today I began the long, long process of trying to obtain a literary agent or publisher. I've been very busy making a list and checking it twice, listing literary agents in the UK. I've contacted my proof reader for a brief synopsis coz I haven't a clue how to shorten the gist of my books down to one or two pages. The stories fit inside whole books fer Christ's sake! How the hell am I going to condense that lot into one or two pages? Buggered if I know.

I'm dipping my toe into the world of publishers and very secretive agents because I'm fed up with self-publishing. My new book, Animan, is a great book. I've even amazed myself when rereading it over and over again for editing. So far sales are slow, very slow, in fact they've stopped entirely and that defeats the object somewhat. Self publishing is good for those who only write because they feel they have something to say.  However, self publishing means one can only sell via Amazon, meaning one misses out on much publicity and the honorable status of having books on bookshelves in such illustrious venues as Asda and Tesco.

I've enjoyed the freedom of self publishing but now need a bigger audience and a bigger market. I'll get down on bended knees and grovel to all those mighty book publishers and literary agents in the hope of gaining succor from their hands. I don't hold out much hope, many people don't believe in God because they've never seen Him. Well let me tell you, you have more chance of seeing God than being accepted by an almighty being of the publishing industry.

So pray for me kind reader, help me on my way to the mysterious accolade of a bookshelf author.
Ta.

Well I've learnt something new this week. I know I should have known, but I didn't. I have discovered it is pure agony attempting to promote my latest book, Animan, with a painful bad back! Ouch!
On a good note, I just scanned Goodreads for my book and lo and behold, there it was. And it already has two good ratings. So while my back screams in protest, my soul is lifted somewhat.

I don't know if anyone actually reads these blogs but I write anyway. Oh the is one other thing I've noticed while trying to find a less painful seating position with a bad back. I noted my language has become a tad more colourful, least that's the politest way I can think of describing it. I am using words I've not thought of for years! Need I identify these words for you? No, I didn't think so.

So I soldier on, advertising my books as best I can while looking in trepidation at the piles of editing I still have to do before publishing Animan ll. If I ever find a comfortable position, I'll get to it, I promise, honest.

Well it seems I remain undecided about my future as a writer. Although I love to write and it helps keep me off the streets, I still require some form of reward for my work. My very first book entitled: A Fly on the Ward is still selling some years after publishing. Sadly the same cannot be said for the others.
My latest book is a science fiction novel concerning a college lecturer who awakes in a different world or dimension, in a different time zone and, in a different body. So different in fact, he is no longer human!
The story tells how our hero survives in a land where humans did not evolve from apes, instead the four top predators evolved. The lion, the tiger, wolf and the bear. Other creatures have evolved to in turn take their place, creatures that have no become even more deadly!
I won't go on else I'll give the whole tale away, just let's say it's very different from what I have written so far. If you read back through my blogs, you'll find all my books. Have a peek, there may be something there of interest to you.
I know self publishing is hard, but it's harder still to get a publisher or literary agent these days. There will be a sequel to Animan, Animan ll - obviously. I didn't release the first Animan until I had written Animan ll. This was to avoid the long stretch of time between books being published. I don't know about you but if there is too much time between reading the first book and the second, I've forgotten was the first one was about! Or is that just me?

Why write?

Ok, many fellow authors tell me they write for the love of writing, the passion and the desire to put their own words down on paper. I suppose it's the same as an actor, always wanting to be on stage, but is this true? If one writes a book that no one reads, is it really a book? Or is it simply a waste of time?
Personally I write for gain, I'm being honest, I write books to sell books. I don't seek fame in todays conception of the word, but I would like my writing to be recognised and more important, paid for. I realise this may not be the ideal of an author, picking up quill, pen, typewriter or personal computer, but it is fact. It is a fact for me and if truth be known, it is a fact for all writers.

My latest book is not selling much as yet, but it's barely a month old so that's understandable. My very 1st book, A Fly on the Ward is still selling nicely, obviously I did something right there. But why do I continue to write? In truth I have no idea. Health limits me to what I can and cannot do and writing seemed a possible avenue of funding in order to 'keep the wolf from the door.' Perhaps a gun might be a better idea? For the wolf of course, not me, said Little Red from the Hood.

The book market is swamped these days, anybody and anyone can and will write a book and through the modern ability to self publish, many new authors spring up every day. So why do I write? Any answers yet?
Maybe I don't sell many books simply because I'm rubbish at putting stories on paper? Maybe my eclectic range of books puts people off? I have written humorous short stories, one academic book, two children's books and now I'm editing the second of my science fiction novels. Maybe I should have stuck to funny hospital stories, people certainly appear to like anything related to hospitals? The answer is, I don't know. I decided Animan ll would be my last book, but will it? Ideas abound in the empty space of my mind every moment of the day, surely there's something there worth writing about?
I admit to have enjoyed the purpose writing gave to my life. I am restricted in what I can do and spend a lot of time home on my own with only me for company. Perhaps writing keeps me sane? Perhaps not. What would I do if I didn't write? Probably become addicted to day time television.
Lord forbid!

Sorry, I'm not the world's best blogger so my blogs are random and infrequent. But now I feel I have something to say.
When publishing my books I use two formats, one being digital and of course the other is paper. Until now I have always used a firm called Creatspace, which is an independent arm of the mighty Amazon. Creatspace off a 'pay as you go' type of service,  print on demand. The author gets royalties but Creatspace get the bulk of any profits from sales. That in itself is fine, but now the prices are rocketing.
My latest book, Animan, is a science fiction V's science fantasy book, a totally new direction for me, as I usually write humour. I duly uploaded my script to Kindle as usual, before tackling the book set up on Creatspace. All went fine, I'm an old hand after publishing seven books, until the pricing section arrived.
One can buy a paperback novel in most shops for around five pounds. That price is reasonable and accepted. However, Creatspace put such a high price on the book that even with my royalty of 0.50p the price of the book was near nine pounds!
I understand everyone needs to make a profit but I'm sure Creatspace will soon be out of business as authors cannot sell their books at the prices set buy Creatspace. Animan ll is in the editing stage but may be published in digital only.
I would like to get a publisher but unless one is a seventeen year old pop star writing an autobiography, or a disgraced politician or a footballer, publishers are not interested. JK Rowlings was turned down by many, many publishers so it happens to us all. One wonders how those publishers who refused her feel now?
So I'm sorry if you prefer the printed paper versions of books, but finance denies my own efforts to get my books in print.
Thank you for reading my moans.

New book. Publish now or wait.

I'm just putting the finishing touches to my 7th book and pondering its future. This will be my first full length novel and is in the genre of science fiction. I am better known for humorous books such as, A Fly on the War, but thought it time for a change.

I intend writing a series of three books and as this is the first, I thought I might sit on it for a while. There's nothing worse than finishing a book, only to discover that the sequel will not be available for over a year. I therefore concluded that I would not publish the new book, entitled, Animan, until the second in the series was also finished. The third, if it ever gets written, should then be out not long after.

I hope this is a sensible choice, it's difficult to know what's best for the market. However, the possibility remains that none of the books will grab the attention of the reading public and not sell at all. I however, remain hopeful.

So please watch this space, not immediately of course, but check back in 12 months or so and by then I should have some news.

One Tick of the Clock

A tick of the clock, and a year has passed.

All the worries or joys have faded away

The year has disappeared, gone so fast,

No longer this year, this month, this day,

One tick of the clock and a memory begun,

We celebrate a new year, but life goes on,

No longer will the events of just last week,

Be remembered this year, they have gone.

One tick of the clock and the world has spun,

A second in time, important to many,

Across the planet, last year is done,

One tick of the clock, new hopes aplenty.

Hello again . . . .  anyone there?  Yeah I know it's my fault, I'm not an avid blogger and not much of major interest to the universe in general. But no worries, I'll plod on anyway. So what's new? I hear you ask. Well I can't remember where I got to on my last blog so a quick update is in order. 

I think I mentioned my first two books, A Fly on the Ward and Humanology. Since then I have given birth to others. A Fly on the Garden Wall and A Nautical Novice (A Fly on the Boat) were duly written, published and promptly forgotten in the vast empty space of the ebook ether. That may be slightly untrue, I think I have sold one or two here and there, A Fly on the Ward remains my best seller. I retain hopes for the others . . . . .

But now I have taken a change in direction. With the aid of my 7yr old grandson, I have taken a lunge into the world of children's books. The very first one is awaiting proof but should be available in Amazon in a matter of days from me writing this. The book is a short story entitled; The Little Train Set and Billy the Hero. I have based these books on the criteria required for school reading, though they would also suit any child with an interest or even the possession of a train set. The target age group is 6 to 8yrs and all content research has been obtained with the able assistance of my grandson.

I plan another two of these books before I decide whether to continue or not. The second is written but as yet I have not published it. I thought one new book at a time is enough. The second book is entitled; The Little Train Set and Someone is missing! I have the storyline for the third but have not yet set pen to paper, or finger to keyboard.

Finally, in between children's books, I have begun a science fiction vs science fantasy sort of book. I can say no more about that yet, it's a very new project long in planning but difficult to write. I have never written an actually full length novel before so this is proving to be quite interesting.

That is where I am regarding my writing, four books published, two in the pipeline and one awaiting me to write it. Good huh? I never thought I would actually achieve the published written word and though I have no claim to fame, I have written no huge best sellers, I am happy with what I have done.
I will endeavour to update this blog more often and possibly even try to make it more interesting . . oh hang on, there's a pig flying past my upstairs window!

Bye for now.

I wrote this after a night of contemplation, or was it that I just couldn't sleep? I don't know but it came into my mind anyway.
If you have read my blogs, which I admit not many people do, you will have gained the impression that I have not been 100% fit over the last 10 years or so. In truth my health has been absolute rubbish! But as I lay there in my pit, I realised that all of we sick people rely on a loved one such as wife, husband, partner or mistress and I wondered how they must feel as they watch us suffering from day to day.
So I wrote this little ditty and posted it around where it might just get read. It did and many appeared to like it, so here it is.

Thank you.

We are so often ill, our breath coming in gasps,

We fear for ourselves, plead for mercy,

Those breaths we take fight us with wheeze and rasp,

Our plight is hard; our mood is hard and bitchy.

But wait a moment; pause a minute, look around, do you see?

Those that love us, care for us, nurse us and stay by our side,

Those loved ones, siblings, partners or spouse, standing closely,

Holding our hand, mopping a brow, hiding how they cried.

So while we suffer, puff and pant, do not grumble, do not rant,

There is strength beside us, a hand to support, an ear to listen,

Our loved ones who watch us suffer without showing a tear,

Our life is hard, full of despair, but do we see the eye that glistens?

My wife is my rock, my oxygen mask, my faithful nurse,

I am lucky, I’m not alone, I have someone who cares,

Suffer we do, often it’s true, but don’t moan, don’t curse,

One of us is ill but both feel the pain, the suffering we share.

Friend or family, brother or son, husband or wife,

We all must remember those who hide their tear, hide their pain,

They sacrifice their hearts, to accompany us in our plight,

So keep in your hearts a smile, for those who love us, with nothing to gain.

©Michael K Chapman 2014.

Define pleasure.

It is funny how one book can sell very well but others do little. Why is it that medical stories attract more interest than gardening? I mean most people have a garden and can relate the odd humorous anecdote about events that happened to them while in their rolling landscaped garden or back yard. I had considered this a topic worth covering but now I’m not so sure. While A Fly on the Ward sold well, so far, A Fly on the Garden Wall is no where near being as successful. Why I wonder, is it because deep down we like to laugh at the misfortunes of others and hospital stories meet this criterion?  Could it be that many people have not endured the care of the medical profession and so wish to discover more about a world they have no knowledge of?

Perhaps the subject of gardening is too boring for today’s hyper electronic inhabitants, possibly the hobby or chore of tending one’s garden is not as widely appreciated as the television gardening experts would have us believe?

I admit I no longer find much joy in spending hours rooting around in the earth and removing weeds, or cutting that damn lawn yet again, or being attacked by a rampant rose bush. However I really cannot say I like being incarcerated in a medical meat factory either and would hope I never have to experience the dubious joys of the National Health Service ever again. Given the choice I would avoid both subjects and choose something more pleasurable, and so I have.

My next book which is at present under construction, strain and a pile of waste paper, will be entitled, A Fly on Deck. This time the subject matter will concern the art of sailing, and boating, possibly sinking but certainly all things nautical. Most people envisage a beautiful sunny day, calm seas and a splendid white yacht shining against the golden sands of a small Pacific Island. So surely this will be a happier and more favourable subject than hospital or gardening? One would think so, wouldn’t one?

We’ll see . . . .  watch this space.

A difficult story

My third book entitled A Fly on the Garden Wall has now been published and so far it has been met with a wall of disinterest. Oh well, one can’t win ‘em all. My first book, A Fly on the Ward is still selling very well, not quite Fifty Shades of Gray selling, but still selling in good numbers.

Happily the forth and fifth books are progressing, if some what slowly due to interruptions from family and health.

The next in the A Fly on the . . . series will be called (I think), A Fly on the Boat. Obviously this book will regal you with humorous stories of my nautical misadventures and the odd soaking. It will follow the style of A Fly on the Ward and A Fly on the Garden Wall, stories to make you smile.

But, the fifth book is being a right pain in the arse!  I am trying to write a novel. That idea itself is novel to me but I thought I would have a go. The problem arises in what I have planned. I hope to write a science fiction story with science fantasy added. This is proving difficult as I have to make sure my science knowledge is actually correct and up to date. 

When writing fantasy one can make up anything and explain it as ‘magic’, however when one is writing science fiction, known rules and facts need to be adhered to. One cannot change the laws of physics simply to achieve a good storyline, nor can one mess around with chemistry or biology. So this is going to be a difficult task and may never reach completion, but we’ll see . . .

Watch this space as they say.

All my books are available from Amazon in digital or paperback.

 

Anyway, my angioplasty (stent) went well, sort of. The plumber who undertook the procedure could have been a tad more gentle but he explained the block in my front artery took some bashing to get through. That's his excuse anyway. 

The trouble started once I returned home. I had received no information, guidance or instruction from the cardiac unit where I was restrained, the only words I kept hearing was 'exercise' so I assumed that was what I should do. Oops!  I began to exercise the day after my stent but will admit it felt wrong and I soon felt strange each time I tried. But I thought I would persist and attempted some form of exercise the weekend. Yesterday (Monday) I had to visit my delicious GP to update her on the events and seek prescriptions. I also intended to ask for information on what I was expected to do and what was due to happen following this form of procedure, she is always helpful.

The doctors surgery is about 2 miles away and nearly all of the journey is down hill, like I mentioned before I live quite high above sea level, so I decided to walk . . . .  

What a wally!  Within 50 yards I was breathless and my heart was hammering at my ribs. I rested for a few moments before continuing and I found the going easier after a while. I guess I had walked half mile before my mobile (cell) phone rang, the surprise of that almost gave me a heart attack! I answered the phone and lo and behold, it was the local cardiac nurse checking up on me. I didn't even know there was such a beastie!  Well obviously she immediately wanted to know why I was sounding so breathless on the phone and why wasn't I at home when she rang there first?

I'm walking to the doctor's I said. How far is that she asked. I told her which surgery I was heading for and where I was at that moment. Then I had to remove the phone from my ear as she proceeded to berate me for my stupidity in no uncertain terms! When I could get a word in, I explained I thought I had to exercise and that a gentle walk would be ideal. Again I was forced to remove the phone from my ear as she described in her own terms what a plonker I was and that any exercise should be GENTLE! Not a bleddy 2 mile walk!

The nurse demanded I stop where I was and describe how I felt at that moment, not good because I felt terrible. My breathing was a struggle and my heart appeared to be attempting to escape the chest of a lunatic.

I was stuck, no buses in site, no taxi's available and I was now about half way into my journey. I couldn't walk home and I couldn't carry on to the doc. I decided to try and get a lift from a passing car . . . or four. No one stopped and all looked at me as though I was insane or a terrorist, humans are not in general, inclined to assist a fellow in distress and no one wanted to help me. Finally a car slowed enough for me to step in front of it and force it to stop. The driver angrily open his window and prepared to shout, then he heard my breathing and relented. I explained I only needed a lift to the surgery because I could not make it and he readily agreed. Once in the car he turned to me and simply said, "COPD?"  I was too breathless to answer so I just nodded. He then informed me his wife had copd so understood when he heard my rattling lungs. I arrived at the surgery alive, almost.

Finally, guess what my delicious doc said . . . ?  Yep, pretty much the same as the cardiac nurse! Least she is a pleasure to look at, even when she's giving me a stern telling off. She also informed me that I was a very, very lucky man, in fact she agreed with my consultant that I was a 'heart attack waiting to happen!'  Anyway I finally got the info I sought, gentle exercise in the form of pottering about the house was allowed, long walks, the exercise bike and the Wii were definitely out of the question. No carrying, lifting, mountaineering or wine, women and song until I had visited the cardiac nurse one next week.

I took a taxi home . . . .  to face even further, and much louder, telling off when my wife got home form work. Ahh well, we live and learn, some of us just take a little longer . . . . .

The illusive publisher

OK, so both my books have been on sale for a while now, A Fly on the Ward became available in May 2012 and Humanology was published in August 2012.  I am busy on my third book which will be entitled, A Fly on the Garden Wall.

So now I have a couple of published books under my belt, should I try for a literary agent or publishing company this time?  So far I have only published on Amazon.  I admit I would love to see some of my work shining alluringly upon the shelves of bookshops, it’s not quite the same downing to Kindle or other electronic devices. The trouble is, how does one get a publisher?  I am not a famous footballer, nor am I a popular singer or TV personality and I am certainly not an infamous politician! So how do I get on those bookshelves? Honestly I haven’t a clue. Maybe I will start pleading, begging and beseeching some of the more honest and better known publishers via the good old internet. Actually that’s about the only way one can contact others these days. The art of letter writing and even the initial phone conversation are in rapid decline.

It’s not that I want to be rich and famous exactly; I just wish to be recognised for my work, identified as an author and get paid for being an author. Will that ever happen?  Some how I doubt it but I will endeavour to seek out the enlightenment of the illusive publisher as I continue to write.

Non-urgent emergency

OK, so yesterday I had to rush my daughter to the maternity unit of our local hospital as what the midwife described as `A non-urgent emergency’ . . . Weird but true!


Finally arriving at the said marvel of modern medicine and Child Production Agency, Mother Nature was by now making her own urgent calls upon my body. I jigged frantically in front of the parking pay meter while hunting for the change I knew I had but could not find, finally managing to feed the evil cash monster the required sustenance that allowed my vehicle to rest in the space provided, I then rushed into the maternity building seeking relief.

Up and down corridors I searched, in and out of wards, up and down stairs and even behind the half empty drinks and snack machines I peered, but alas it was all in vain. Desperately I sought the assistance of a stern looking nurse on her way to terrorise yet another newborn, but the reply I received shocked me to my core. I was curtly informed there were NO male toilets in the maternity block!

Well! I almost relieved myself in shock! So what was a poor simple man supposed to do? I realise a maternity unit is for the purpose of infant arrivals and the female of our species was the priority of that unit, but what about the males unfortunately present? I understand that most women at this stage of the reproduction cycle wish all men castrated or shot, which ever makes less mess, but males are involved as well. Not all involved are in the position of a potential new father, some males are those other members of the male species that help and support these women in their hour of giving birth. What about males such as husbands, partners, boyfriends or one night stands? And should not consideration be given to the members of the expectant mother’s family? Such as fathers, brothers, grandfathers, uncle or even son’s? What hellish mind contrived to remove all forms of male bladder relief from the building?

Still jiggling frantically I saw my daughter onto the appropriate ward before dashing out to seek a toiletry refuge. At last my prayers, incantations and other assorted words of choice were answered, a hundred yards away stood the main hospital building and I knew there I would find sanctuary and escape from my most pressing problem. Screaming past fellow visitors, patients, nursing staff and the odd lost doctor, I ran straight for the men’s room resembling a tortured banshee seeking to escape a rabid banker!

When at last the deed was done, I returned to my bemused daughter as she awaited to attentions of a doctor, which she duly received some four and a half hours later! Good job it was only a non-urgent emergency!  However it did turn out to be an emergency for me!

Days off

Ok so I have survived three days now without writing a word, well not in relation to books I mean. I have my next book planned but I have decided to take a sabbatical from writing while I await the British summer. Could be a long wait!


Having published two books via Amazon, I am now pondering the prospect of seeking a publishing agent or publisher. I have no idea if this is possible or even probable as most publishers today appear only to gratify the needs of footballers, pop stars or disgraced politicians. However I will strive to climb that mountain and if I reach the summit then maybe I will have my first book in print on the bookshelves of Britain.

Having a few days off has allowed me to rejoin those pass times I have missed, and some that I most defiantly have not missed! I played my son’s guitar because he is away, then I played mine. It appears to have been some time since I played because I was awful! More practice I think.

I have bailed the ocean out of my little boat and the sat serenely upon its gently rocking bow and surveyed the tranquil river before me. I have even played football with my grandson, his rules though, not real football. He kicks the ball, I run after the ball! But it was still very enjoyable. Then we all went hunting for blackberries, the family desired a blackberry and apple pie. Unfortunately the dozen or so berries we found did not justify a pie, so my grandson ate them.

Today with the sun shining brightly down from the heavens, I was informed I had decided to help in the garden. I cannot remember making this decision but who am I to argue against superior forces, so I helped with the gardening. I am now suffering the rewards of cuts, scratches, stings and bruises and I have been given notice that tomorrow will be much the same. Maybe it’s time I began work on the next book!

My latest book: Humanology

Humanology.


Hi Folks. Well my second book is finished and I am about to send it off to Amazon and Creatspace. It’s a strange book I will admit. Entitled Humanology, it is a compilation of observations made on the behaviour, antics and habits of the modern human. Possibly along the lines of sociology, psychology and maybe even philosophy but certainly not too deep and with some humour to help the reader stay awake, hopefully!

In this book I have tried to analyse the things we see all around us in our everyday existence, from the changes we have witnessed over the course of our years to the onslaught of binge drinking, mind numbing television programmes and the availability of every food stuff known to man.
The different ways in which we deal or fail to deal with modern living is discussed but only superficially, I don’t want to become known as a cure for insomnia instead of an author!
This book has been rattling around in my head for years so I thought I had better get it down on paper, or rather onto my computer before the ideas and thoughts burst from my ears in a stream of incoherent rubbish!
Finally before you begin shouting profanities at your PC screen, I know there is no such word as Humanology. But what better way to describe man’s modern foibles and traits that often leaves other astounded or horrified? The book does not exactly cover one discipline so cannot be placed entirely under a title of sociology or psychology. Perhaps it should have been called; The Ramblings of a befuddled and confused mind! The title of Humanology was constructed as the best possible label for the mixture of subjects and conclusions, assumptions and observations on that very strange animal, the Human Being! However, in order for one to form a judgment on the essence of this book, one first has to read it!

My first book entitled: A Fly on the Ward, is doing quite well. If you haven’t already done so, check it out on Amazon. It is very difficult to promote when one has self published a book, literary agents and publishers are only concerned with footballers, pop stars and naughty politicians, the rest of us have no chance! So please have pity on a struggling virgin author and purchase this funny book of medical pandemonium.

Apart from writing, I have been fighting the odd battle with health, not that I’m unwell but I object to the amount of pills, potions, strange brews and other assorted concoctions the medics continually attempt to ram down my throat!
So I am reducing as many of the marvellous modern medicinal methods of medical mayhem produced by the medical profession for the amusement of us all. I’m not sure if I am helping or harming myself, but I think I’ll find out soon enough!