The good news is that ‘Invisible Ink: How 100 Great Authors Disappeared’ is arriving in time to fill the Christmas stocking of a hated elderly relative, as the official publication date is December 6th, and it’s up on Amazon here - the ‘Temporarily out of stock’ label is there because it’s not physically in until next week.
In related news, Mammoth Books are doing individual copies of short stories – not quite sure why, but there you go – and I notice they’re doing one of mine. ‘Oh I Do Like To Be Beside The Seaside’ appeared in one of their collections, but for some reason it’s billed on websites as being 300 pages long. It’s not. It’s about 20 pages long. But it’s cheap.
It came about firstly because I was commissioned to write a story for the World Horror Convention souvenir book and, as the event was to take place in Brighton, it seemed logical to set a tale on the South coast of England. I had written a fantasy novel, Calabash, some years earlier, hinting at the dark madness of such seaside towns, which are the antithesis of their Mediterranean counterparts. I thought of the depressing Morrissey song “Every Day is Like Sunday”, which captures the awfulness of English resorts.
So there you go, now you know as much about it as I do, but I seem to remember that it’s a bloody good story. And it’s cheap. Merry Christmas.
Speaking of which, I’ll be running a special Bryant & May Christmas short story here later in the month, so watch out for it.