The Obligatory Shameless Promotion Post

Shadowville_cover_AlternateYou should buy my book. You really should because it’s, you know, readable. Probably not in a Da Vinci Code, page-turning, can’t put down way readable but readable as in the words all stick together and make sentences that form into paragraphs and, as a whole, it all pretty much makes sense.

Shadowville is the story of Ben Reilly who, recently single and down on his luck, returns to his home town hoping for little more than the comfort of things known and familiar and a place to clear his head. Instead he finds a town overtaken by a strange and creeping horror, and the streets populated with shambling, vacant-eyed townsfolk.

This is an old story of mine, one of my first completed novels. It’s so old I don’t even recall the genesis of it. I’m sure the notes on it are buried somewhere in the depths of my currently in storage stuff and they’ll probably turn up eventually. But for now, here’s the complete and utter, God’s own truth as to how I came up with and decided to write Shadowville.

There was a little fellow,
Who had a little shadow,
And that shadow did follow
Everywhere he did go
It followed him here,
It followed him there
That annoying little shadow
It followed him everywhere

Walking home from school one day
He spied a little kitten
He took a little look
And found himself quite smitten
Then his shadow leapt up off the ground, wrapped the kitten like a shroud and devoured it like an elephant snorting up a peanut.

Okay, so maybe that’s not entirely accurate. Unlike other stories I’ve written I don’t recall any particular inspiration behind this one (remember, I wrote this thing about 15 years ago. Jesus.). I’ve got half an idea I wrote it Stephen King style, I had an idea of this dude returning back to his home town from the city and just started writing from there. That initial scene of Ben driving back into town in his big-arse car with The Doors playing, that was always there. And the rest just coalesced around that.

I can also tell you I wrote this thing, as I’ve found is my style, entirely in longhand on my daily one and half hour train trip between Richmond and Sydney. When I dig out the originals I can probably even tell you exactly how long it took me.

Oh, and I can also tell you that, when I sent a copy to my mum to read, her response was “It’s good, but I don’t see why anyone would want to read it.” That one’s going to haunt me to my last days, Mother.

So yeah, you should totally buy it. Come on, it’s USD4.99 and it might even amuse you for a few hours. And every dollar I get goes towards beer.

Stealth out

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