A Cigarette Paper's Thickness, by G.R. Buchaillard-Davies

Coming soon to a waste-paper
basket near you...
It's November, so you can bank on two things:
1) I will be sporting facial hair for no discernible reason
2) I will pretend to write a novel so I can feel better about myself

I do myself a disservice - I'm growing facial hair because I like it. 

Anyway, just so you know and are not *titter* disappointed at the lack of activity on this blog in the next thirty days, I shall be beavering away, re-reading my manuscript, removing most of the curse words and cutting down on the gratuitous verbosity in an attempt to craft a passable ebook, for self-publishing in the not-too-distant future. Indeed, I've already mocked up a cover design. What larks! Cart before the horse as always. 

Should you feel motivated to support my Kickstarter campaign, please note I haven't got one. Instead, please harass and harangue me at every opportunity so that I am suitably motivated, and if you do want to throw your cash around, then there are far more worthy causes than me and my hirsute face. This chap, for example:

https://www.gofundme.com/Matthew-Parsons

Thanks everyone.

Comments

  1. This reminds me of the old Peter Cook joke. Two bohemian types meet at a party, and the first says, 'I'm writing a book.' The second replies, 'Really? Neither am I.'

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  2. Was it not Peter Cook who comes back with the put-down? It's not clear in the Telegraph article I found it in...
    http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/culturenews/9550516/Time-for-Peter-Cook-to-have-the-last-laugh.html

    ReplyDelete

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