We have reached an awkward time in our great nation’s history where the vast majority of us are trapped at home desperately trying to find a way to avoid all of those jobs we have promised our spouses and ourselves that we were going to complete whilst knowing deep down that we had more intention of riding downhill sitting on a cactus in a shopping trolley with a wonky wheel over speed humps.
I, like the rest of you, have a list of things I should be getting on with which are not procrastination, and like you I am completely failing. Therefore in the name of doing as little as possible, I have made all the wonderful stories I have published free on Smashwords as part of the author gives back sale. The aim of the sale is as it says in the title, to give back. If our stories offer a sense of distraction, maybe the odd snicker, or provoke some form of cognitive function then we will be doing our bit to fight the self-isolation blues and hopefully offer some comfort in the darkest of times.
Thus all that is left to say is go forth my friends, stay indoors and take care of everyone that you love. To download the 47th best collection of stories written by someone named Scott Andrews, click here.
Till next time.
As coronavirus sweeps the world and people run out panic buying toilet paper for an illness that will make them cough and not shit, I have largely been watching on with some bemusement. The widescale paranoia and the complete selfishness makes me wonder if we do not actually deserve it. I am old enough to remember a different world. My Grandparents, only two generations removed from me, survived a war by coming together and helping their neighbors, and here we are 75 years on, in an age when grown adults have fistfights over toilet rolls. Something somewhere has gone badly wrong in the evolution of humanity, and what made us great and unique has fallen away and left behind a more primitive way of thinking. The truth is that if people genuinely did care about each other they would be looking out for the vulnerable members of our society rather than themselves.
After eight years, Existence Is Futile has finally gone out of print circulation. It is a decision I have not taken lightly. It will continue to be available as an ebook. In the meantime, I am considering a second edition in the future, for the simple reason that I love the story and it would give me an opportunity to honor it in the way Professor Henry Tomlinson deserves.
I hope to be publishing a concept book later in the year. I know that normally someone should write at least five books before they disappear far enough up their own arseholes before trying to share some self-indulgent nonsense, however, I have decided to jump ahead and do something that pleases me for the simple reason that life is short and we will all be dead soon.
My former band YU recently released a new music video entitled ‘Bang Bang’. By all means, take a look here,
Speaking of YU, the singer Kuba was recently on a television show in Poland. As always, he was delightfully eccentric and made quite an unexpected choice of song…
Just the other day I was idling between the news on television with its constant sense of impending death whilst scrolling through Twitter and reading about the forthcoming apocalypse when it occurred to me that I had likely written the perfect anthem for the coronavirus epidemic some years ago. It is poignant, accurate, and holds a poetic truth. Enjoy.
Until next time.
Those of you with somewhat memorable memories may well recall a recollection about a short story I published entitled ‘The Non-stop Dancer’. It was originally written during the time of the great referendum and left in a dusty drawer to rot and hopefully be forgotten. When the last general election rolled around I decided to publish it in the faint hope that the allegory would serve as a warning and would not be missed. Sadly for the Disunited Kingdom, the stark warning that appeared in its pages has come true.
The ludicrous idea of a man continually dancing for no other reason than a whim before upping and walking away from the monster that he had created, seemed perfectly apt. When I wrote about a populist MP who was prepared to abandon all beliefs in the face of popular opinion, I was convinced that he would one day be Prime Minister. Yesterday, I was proven right.
The notion that drove me to write the story was the realisation that populism creates beasts that opportunists look to harness. In some cases, the beasts grow bigger and stronger. In others, the beasts eventually crush those that try to ride them. The danger we are faced with now is the fact that we are in the hands of an opportunist, in an age where we disregard information that does not appeal to our beliefs. Truth is dead. Long live the truth.
They were no longer individuals. United in dance, joined in the ecstasy of becoming one, they were a new species, a new organism, a dangerous warning from the power of unity. They danced atop mountains, they danced into a new dimension, they were the heralds of a new dawn, they were the new crusaders, singularly, via the medium of dance, they had created an entirely new reality, a new beginning, it was as if the future had been laid at their feet.
Scott Andrews, The Non-stop Dancer
You can read ‘The Non-stop Dancer’ right here
Merry Christmas and that kind of thing. I hate the end of every year. The falsified happiness, the expectation that we celebrate the fact that we are all one year closer to death. It is collective insanity. A gazelle never turns around to a chasing tiger and offers it a drink so why should we?
The worst thing about Christmas is the music. The same songs in every shopping centre, supermarket, taxi, television advert and radio station. The same sentiments, the same words, the same ideas, the same tunes. Nothing ever changes at Christmas. It is a tinselled up groundhog day of misery, eating bad food, showing gratitude for things we do not want and being forced to interact with people we do not actually like.
Therefore I would like to propose to you not to partake in the annual misery competition. Instead, read something awesome. The kind folks at Amazon are giving away Mourning Morning eBooks from the 25th of December to the 29th. Set yourself a reminder. Get yourself a copy.
Thus all that is left for me to say is Jingle Balls and may the Jesus be with you all.
P.S. There is one Christmas song that is worth listening to. You can find it below.
I’ve been quieter than a mouse trying to suppress a fart as it sneaks past a sleeping cat. There are a myriad of uninteresting reasons for that and strangely none of them involve a potato. Alas I am the bearer of some tidings.
For all of you buggers that read eBooks of an electronic variety and are off to lounge around the pool for a week or two sipping cocktails with the sole intention of coming back the colour of the average Essex girl in mid November, you can find practically my entire back catalogue for free throughout July right here on Smashwords. That’s the Non-stop Dancer, PiSlamistan, Mia, All Hallows’ Eve, Existence Is Futile and the Story of Albert Ross absolutely free to your eReaders. If you don’t do eBooks but know somebody who does share this good news. And if you or anyone you know happens to give them a try, please don’t forget to leave a review somewhere or God will quite probably kill a kitten.
In other news, rather unlike me, I have actually been writing. Book number three is well underway and features high commerce, gratuitous sex and mildly depressed fruit. It is quite obviously somewhat a niche market, however, I believe that if the world has a place for dinosaur erotica, I’m going to be just fine. In the meantime, be nice to each other and read books.