Words I hear in Dudley Moore’s voice, of course. As you will doubtless guess I am exhorting you to check out things that I am doing. A rather pointless venture, I know. The only thing people read on social media are the things they have tagged you in. C’est la vie. My head is full of things that must come out. Decades of indifference have left me delusional that you are all pining to hear my latest: don’t wake me up.
Those great folks at the Cultural Gutter are raising funds to pay their writers. A novel concept but I hope it catches on and puts the HuffPo out of business. I have contributed to the cause by offering to write the original story for my Deliberately Lost SF Classic ‘Psycho Motorcycle Dolls (1966)’ and you can be one of ten people to see this exclusive story by contributing to the Gutter. There are other fabulous prizes as well.
Yes, just that gif has made me start twitching just in the time it took to write this but it’s there to get your attention. I think. Sign up for this free multimedia event which takes place both online and on the Southbank and you will be rewarded with many musings about love — including a song by me. That’s right. I am full of surprises. Which brings me to…
Admit it, you’d prefer a dull life. So does Basil Morley. Soon he will explain to you how to obtain this nirvana in the hottest self-help book of the season. I can promise you it is a peach and looks extraordinary because that Stephanie Johnson has been whipping the thing into shape. So start following the site and do be DULL.
Click the picture: today only, get Hard-Boiled Witch 2: Toil and Trouble for free — then pick up the others for just 99¢/99p each. Celebrate #FolkloreThursday by following the hashtag on Twitter or dropping by their Facebook page.
Hecate Sidlaw finds herself caught between a wannabe witch and one of the oldest hereditary powers in the land. When she and her familiar Henry end up as seconds in a magical duel, will anyone be left standing at the end of the shootout? Enter the dark streets and weird magic of HARD-BOILED WITCH and your life will never be quite the same. This is the second episode in the short story series.
The days are just packed! So forgive me if I offer a little repeat: my first two posts for Witches & Pagans as ‘History Witch’ dealt with Anglo-Saxon traditions of magic and healing. Just the thing for the #FolkloreThursday madness.
Coming next month from The Pigeonhole: Letters on Love, a multimedia extravaganza on love letters. Here’s the scoop:
This September, we will be teaming up with writers, artists and musicians to create the first multi-faceted, mixed-media message on the vagaries of our most fascinating emotion – love. Over two weeks you will receive love letters, some from strangers, some from familiars, but all will teach you something important. Read with others from around the globe and join in the love discussion. With a collaboration with the Southbank Centre to boot, this promises to be one of our best Pigeon books yet. Sign up now to be part of something brilliant.
Of course I’m telling you about this because I will be part of it! Guess what? My contribution is not a story but a song. The thing I never dared to do when I was much younger because I was so afraid of looking a fool — sing! Of course now I’m old enough to not care what people think (mostly, heh). And there’s more coming whether you want it or not. Details anon — but thanks to Richard Sanderson at Linear Obsessional Recordings for first opening the window of opportunity.
Sign up for free here and you’ll get updates from The Pigeonhole in your mailbox. Check out their community reads for other ongoing books and have fun.
The news cheered me in the midst of the season of bells, balls and bulls. August always has that touch of melancholy, for this Proserpina must soon return to the underworld. In the mean time I shall continue on as Johanna Factotum with tiger-heart (what kind of hide wraps it, I cannot say).
I mooched along to the British Museum on my last afternoon in the city because I had gifts to buy and thought I’d pop in. There’s no more ‘popping in’ to the museum apparently, but queuing for a long security check instead. Hope it’s just a temporary thing.
Afterward the torrential downpour had slowed to a lighter misty rain, so I wandered back toward the hotel. I often stay near Russell Square, so it was sad to hear it as the location of a violent attack this week. I’ll keep this picture in my head instead: enjoying chocolate and pistachio gelato on a rainy afternoon with nowhere I had to be.