Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Volunteer as a Zombie Cow for the Day



I’m sure we can all agree that volunteering is a beautiful, selfless thing to do. There are so many disadvantaged groups that could benefit from a little of our time: un-stroked kittens;  elderly men with bad combovers that need held down by helping hands so they don’t undulate in the wind like seaweed; people suffering from the delusion that Jeremy Clarkson isn’t an enormous twat.

However, being a selfish bastard, I’m not going to ask you to help any of these people. I want you to serve for the charity of me. Not enough people are buying my book, which means I can’t feed my cigar, caviar and champagne habit. This is a tremendously tragic travesty, which I aim to remedy with your help.

Since Apocalypse Cow has a whiff of the B-movie about it, I plan to produce a homemade book trailer while simultaneously raising awareness of the book. How? This September, I am going to hire a panto cow outfit. I will then get some Apocalypse Cow posters pinned back and front and film the cow running wild around London and Glasgow, scaring the shit out of passers-by while I film.

So, how can you help?

1. You can volunteer to be a zombie cow or zombie cow victim for the day. The dates I am thinking of at the moment are Wednesday September 11 in Glasgow, from 11am to 5pm, and Saturday September 14 in London, from 9am-4pm. I can promise you a fun day out, credit on the film and alcoholic beverages while we run around making tits of ourselves.

2. Film yourself, your friends, your dollies, your Star Wars figure collection or your beloved hamster being attacked by a zombie animal of some variety and send the clip to me. It can be as ridiculous as you want it to be. Dialogue, scene and setting I leave entirely up to you.

3. You can send me a large sum of cash so I can hire Peter Jackson to produce the trailer for me in the style of Bad Taste or Braindead. I think his rates have gone up since those days, so be generous. I'll accept returnable bottles (as long as you haven’t jammed cigarette ends into them) and food stamps.

In case you are wondering if this is a bad joke of the kind served up in my book on every other page, it isn’t. I am perfectly serious and would very much appreciate whatever time people are willing to give up.
If you liked Apocalypse Cow and want to see more books in that vein, or if you are simply looking for some shits and giggles, drop me a line through Twitter, my Facebook author page or by email.
 
Michael.

Wednesday, July 03, 2013

Ain't getting on no plane? Shut up, fool, and fly BA.





Mr. T demonstrates how planes fly. Sort of.

I hate flying. I really hate flying. I really really…well, you get the idea.

I’m the source of those noxious fear farts that get sucked up by the air conditioning to recirculate with decreasing intensity, like the echo of a grating voice in cavernous room.

I’m the person who claws big chunks out of the armrests any time the plane so much as wiggles. No matter how many analogies I draw with bumpy roads I always think I’m going to die.

I’ve been on a small jet that hit the wake turbulence of another plane on the way from Juba to Nairobi, making it feel as though a giant had grabbed the tail fin and was using the aircraft to scratch his hairy arse crack.

I’ve flown Tajik airlines, where the hostess told us the oxygen masks were ‘a mixture of fire and oil’ before the rumble of take-off made panels fall open and show exposed wiring.

I’ve been on a plane that had to turn back and make an emergency landing after getting a cracked windscreen on the way to Moscow.

You would think I wouldn’t fly any longer, but I have to: for work and to visit family. And so, rather than spend the rest of my life in a fear funk, I have decided to start a new airline for all those like me.

Fortunately, I have been lucky enough to have Mr. T—BA Baracus of A-Team fame—come onboard as founding partner of our new airline, which I can now unveil:

BA Airlines
Aint’ getting on no plane? Shut up, fool, and fly BA

Our business model is simple. The night before you are due to fly, we give you a nice glass of warm milk. While you are ‘sleeping’, our staff bundle you onto a comfy stretcher, pop you into the back of an ambulance and shuttle you to your plane. You will wake up in a recovery room at your destination.

Best of all, our prices are competitive. With no need for in-flight services such as food or movies, and no need for seats, we simply slide the passengers into pods, allowing us to pack three times as many passengers onto flights and cut out all the overheads.

Add in the fact that our all of the planes in our fleet will be fitted with giant dungarees and draped with gold chains, and that the engines will be moulded and painted to look like bulging biceps, and I'm sure you will agree this is a winning business model.

Mr. T and I hope to have our first flights up-and-running by the end of 2014.

Any potential investors who wish to get in on the ground level on this astonishing venture can send money to my bank account, details of which will be made available upon request.

Don’t be a sucker. Fly BA.

Monday, July 01, 2013

New writing contest


I'm a big fan of writing contests. They give you focus, a deadline and kudos in victory, which you can then use when approaching agents and publishers.

I'm an even bigger fan of first-novel awards, as winning the Terry Pratchett prize (see how I'm not afraid to name drop) got me started.

So, I was pleased to see the inception of the Bath Novel Award.



If you are unpublished author with a work in progress, or a completed novel, get over there right now and enter.