Wednesday, 12 December 2007



Don’t try and make out your fucking Martin Amis or that you’re fucking Martin Amis, or that your writing some book that’ll change the world, that’s better than The Hungry Caterpillar. Be realistic, try writing from the gut, something that’s raw and new and not just some half arsed, wanked off lifestyle guide to epitomises stereotypes with a ulterior perspective, that’s been done.

Style is why Stephan King is regarded as long-winded and Andy Mc Nab is referred to as War and Piss
. You need a style such as: writing in pros and cons, ending every sentence with … Using ’once upon a time; more than ‘the’. Referring to every character as the accused. Making reference to the way every road surface feels through your car disregardless any pivotal emotional climax. Or like myself just give up on the idea that you can spell, plastering letters anywhere on the page to look less like a book more like some later than usually late post modernist reference to the masculiist bondage of nounist theorem, or cack-ca, coo, coo, cack.

Been looking at a sheet of blank A4 for fourteen years, while your ex wife two doors down from the homeless shelter you now live in is blowing doleys and you're left considering taking the dribbling schizophrenic for a bin date? Now is the time to look around you, then plagiarise! Whether it’s overheard conversations, books, articles, TV guides right through to supermarket price tickets. Hell you’re that desperate and untalented just write them word for word. Read other authors for inspiration, these are some of the best:

Alistair Campbell: surrealism,

Barbara Cartland: a mystery,

Mills and Boon: biological fiction,

Dan Brown: fairy sagas.

Personal experiences
If you’ve had a real awful experience such as: finding out your mother's a cold blooded Zebra Tailed Lizard from Middlesbrough, or you used to take large quantities of psychotropic substances that gave you the grotesque hallucination of being able to write, use it for ‘fodder’ yeah that’s what writers call it, I think it makes 'em feel gritty.

Writing groups
Joining a writing group is a great confidence booster. To know your not as flawed as a group of people who take time out to concentrate of writing high coos for nine hours just to be able to sound better than another fat, bald, women is commendably low.

Writing groups motivate delusion and invariably take up space in a perfectly good hall. Think what you could do with that hall and a gun and them, probably a hell of a lot more drama then they could create.

Spunk Drunk, titles have gotta grab your attention, that’s why Spunk Drunk when published sold 208 million copies on it’s opening weekend while Ernest Blindforth: the meaning of life explained and proved by scientists, sold only 4 in it’s entire shelf life. Picking a title is more important than what’s in it, some handy examples are: Blood baby on my cock, My mothers a washing machine, Fanta fuck? and The Phonebook.

Whatever you do, DON’T acknowledge your girlfriend or boyfriend. Chances are you’ll have split up with them sometime later and thusly left with a few thousand painful memories of them floating around, plus about ten books with their name on coupled with a rather over intimately noting on how she transformed your life failing to mention how she unscriptedly decimated it.

Keep it simple animals and sex toys.

You may feel disheartened when publishers refuse your book. J.K. Rowling got turned down many times and Harry Potter’s now as popular as tits.

Against popular belief do let editors change important parts of it, so to an entire extent it’s not even your book. In actuality it won’t make any difference because your book will be shelved behind an enormous cardboard cutout of: David Beckham’s – struggling to be self-important, picture book. And you’ll feel that the whole nature of writing is one big commercial fraud lambasting talent and elevating over hyped twats.

By complete fluke your book’s picture resembles apple’s new i fuck vibrating mouse balls. Everyone buys it anxious to be cool, four minutes later half the western hemisphere’s flicked through your book, blogged it, and set up odd homage sites devoted to a seemingly transient philosophical interpretation you had absolutely no idea you made.

The next novel
Like every great rock n roll group the second album has always been piss easy, that’s why they’re great. Remember what made you great in your first novel then repeat it again changing very little so the audience are essentially reading the same book but because two years have past since your last, they think you’ve matured, or evolved and laud over your plagiarised, repeated non-talent sending Hollywood into a shit storm that only Leonardo Di Caprio’s apathetic interpretation of your character will kill. Or you could get nothing, and then it’s back to Burger King. Y’know books make great bog roll.

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