Most Pretentious Novel Plan Imaginable

Well hello again- as you can probably tell from my post the other day, I’ve been thinking a lot about pretentious books lately, and wondering what exactly drives a person to write one of these “I really, really want a Pulitzer” atrocities. And since it’s been a while since I made one of my novel plans, I figured I would get in the mindset of these literary crooks and write the Most Pretentious Novel Plan Imaginable!

*The Sitting Room*

(This doubles up as a wanky title and the place where all the non-action is about to go down)

dexter dalwood room

A group of middle class twats are all sitting around a sitting room waiting on the results of the trial of the century. Everyone is fidgety and on edge in such a way that gives away their chief characteristic:

The hostess, Ms Peters, is hovering around with the teapot, pressuring people into taking refills and sending silent messages with her eyes that they better not try to leave before she kicks them out- or so help her she will gossip about them all next time she goes to church!

The Vicar (who apparently lost all right to a name since becoming a member of the cloth) is leaning against the piano clearly trying to say “I can play more than just an organ!! For god sake, cheer me on as if it’s X Factor!!”

Mr Vanderwall is pretending to write something down, whilst itching the side of his nose and wondering if he can get away with a quick, sneaky pick- a look from his wife tells him he can’t.

Aforementioned Mrs Vanderwall (nee Lily Gatherer) is rolling a cigarette with one hand and lifting her skirt up with the other, in a way that says both how devil may care she is and how long it has been since she last had sex.

Mr Smarves is staring up said skirt.

Bill McBlanderson is just staring at the walls.

First plot point: a circular argument has just ensued between Mrs Vanderwall and Mr Smarves.

“But war is bad!”

“Yes, war is bad”

“But it’s bad”

“Yes, it is.”

“I said it’s bad!”

pg-tips-monkey-sustainability-v1Ok- this seems like enough plot for now- I think it’s time for a diversion: insert digression on tea for about ten pages (no, this post is not sponsored by PG tips, I swear). Mr Vanderwall- the writer character and therefore the hero- is drinking all the refills Mrs Jones offers because it makes him feel important and British. It also reminds him of the Cambodian Civil war, partly as he associates all tea with Asia (in a way that is inspired by post-colonial guilt, not racism) and partly because he’d just read the Killing Fields in the hope it would make good small talk, but realised now that this was not a good fashionable choice of book, because it was popular 30 years ago. He really should have gone into an indie book store and asked “what’s popular now and will make me sound smart if I read it”- that would teach him to go into second-hand…

*News broadcast cuts in* (fortunately interrupting this monologue)

Everyone gets nervous and excited- because finally something is happening in this damn plot:

Gloucester City Council finds Tony Blair guilty of littering… Dum dum dum!!

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*Chaos erupts!* Well, I say chaos- more like Bill McBlanderson falling off his chair, because Mrs Vanderwall batted Mr Smarves away as he went for a quick grope up her skirt, with a hiss of “not in public!”.

Annnd that’s it. The book ends in that nice anti-climactic fashion. Maybe with a random obtuse ending moralising that we are all “everything and nothing all at once”- ooh- sounds profound…

So will Tony Blair have to do community service for his crimes? Who know? I guess it’s just one of life’s unanswerable questions- since this is fiction and, like all pretentious books, there won’t be a sequel! Hope you enjoyed that!

The Great Thing About Hogwarts Houses… And Sorting British Politicians!

If there’s one thing I really like about Hogwarts, it’s the Houses system. What makes it different from, say, Divergent is that it is not just measuring your qualities, nor does it completely define you, but takes into account who you want to be most- it’s what makes it the perfect system. It’s how people perceive themselves, rather than what they are. And it’s why it makes sense to me that Peter Pettigrew was in Gryffindor and that Snape would identify himself with Slytherin. (It’s also why Dumbledore is right about sorting them to early- cos let’s face it, eleven year olds don’t always have a huge amount of self-awareness)

As you can see it’s an area that is ripe for discussion. Now since writing my review of Boris Johnson’s Churchill biography– partly looking into BoJo’s own character- I’ve been thinking about a conversation I had with my friend a while ago where we started “sorting” British politicians into houses. I’d like to share some of my theories with you:

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I’d put Theresa May in Ravenclaw- she’s certainly a very capable woman

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I had a massive disagreement with my friend on where to put BoJo- but I chose Gryffindor- because I bet he’d ask the hat to put him there for sure. It’s not that I think he deserves to be, but that he wants to be.

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Nick Clegg would definitely get put in Hufflepuff- not that he’s especially loyal- but he’d probably like to think he is. Plus there’s no way he’s smart or cunning or bold enough for the other houses.

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No hesitation- Osborne would be sorted into Slytherin faster than you could say “by George!”- I think he’d actually beat Draco Malfoy’s record for how long it took the Sorting Hat to decide.

Jeremy Corbyn is, of course, a muggle 😉

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Sorry, sorry, I forgot, he prefers “Supreme Leader”…

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So what do you think? Do you agree with me? And- dare I ask- where would you place your politicians? 

(Meanwhile I’m looking forward to all the love I’m gonna get from Corbynistas 😉 )

Firelight- How it should have ended…

Hello all! I’m still getting back into the swing of things, but thought I’d share this funny little post! So I don’t know if you’ve ever seen How It Should Have Ended on youtube, but I thought I might do one for a book I read a while ago called Firelight…

firelight

So here’s the synopsis on Goodreads:

Marked as special at an early age, Jacinda knows her every move is watched. But she longs for freedom to make her own choices. When she breaks the most sacred tenet among her kind, she nearly pays with her life. Until a beautiful stranger saves her. A stranger who was sent to hunt those like her. For Jacinda is a draki, a descendant of dragons whose greatest defense is her secret ability to shift into human form.

Forced to flee into the mortal world with her family, Jacinda struggles to adapt to her new surroundings. The only bright light is Will. Gorgeous, elusive Will who stirs her inner draki to life. Although she is irresistibly drawn to him, Jacinda knows Will’s dark secret: He and his family are hunters. She should avoid him at all costs. But her inner draki is slowly slipping away;if it dies she will be left as a human forever. She’ll do anything to prevent that. Even if it means getting closer to her most dangerous enemy.

And here’s how it should have ended from the moment she finds out he’s a dragon hunter (aka in the first chapter)…

“Beautiful,” he says looking her straight in the eyes, still holding the crossbow he probably used to murder her dad.

And she can feel herself warming to him for a moment, because even dragons are susceptible to a bit of flattery. But then she realises she’s got flames literally writhing round in her belly and it’s likely just indigestion.

“What did you just say to me DRAGON HUNTER?” she booms.

“Oh you noticed I’m a dragon hunter did you- well let me explain…” he says in his most nasal, wheedling voice, getting on his hands and knees for good measure. “You’ve got to understand I’m really attracted to you- you’re so beautiful- even if you are a big fire breathing beast… No- wait I didn’t mean to say that! Umm I mean I’d never hurt you and I didn’t mean to kill your friends and family… Oh shit that’s not helping. Just let me explain… We don’t just butcher your kind we do experiments on them- so really it’s all very noble… Oh whoops- really not helping. Okay, okay, I’ve got it- this always works on teenage girls- I LOVE YOU!”

But she just rolls her eyes and burns that murdering toerag to a crisp. After all, she’s a mother-effing dragon!!

THE END.

I don’t even know what that was in all honesty… hope you enjoyed it either way!

(Plus for any purist fans of the series- all five of you– my memory is pretty hazy and I made a lot of stuff up!)

The Existential Crisis of Goodnight Moon

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So I have done a fair number of analyses of children’s books- but nothing comes close to this. Because this book is so full of meaning and existential despair that I have decided to show my workings to you all:

goodnight-moon

 

Looks heavy doesn’t it. that’s because beneath the seemingly minimalist style is the full weight of nihilistic philosophy. It’s not just about going to sleep- it’s about some severe anxiety and OCD behaviour patterns that underpin a deep seated feeling of resenting existence. It is everything and nothing all together.

Yeah, I know, deep stuff right. No I swear this is not just some claptrap I’m making up on the spot. If you “read between the lines” you’ll see this is chocoblock with symbolism about life and death. I mean clearly night and sleep are just metaphors for death. And the clocks are clearly ticking away in the background, counting down the minutes until we pass out of this world… Plus all those cats are clearly harbingers of doom. Lots and lots of doom.

So I think I’ve sufficiently proved my point- hope you enjoyed that extremely dark reading…

And if just to let you know the Saturnalia is still ongoing- so if you would like to enter- check out my last post for details!

Why Satire Is Evil!!!

Disclaimer: My satirical pieces have attracted some comments about being insensitive in the past and I was gonna do a serious piece about what satire is- you know, clear everything up- buuut, let’s be honest, I can’t do serious! So I wrote this instead!

Disclaimer about the disclaimer: satirical work requires a disclaimer so that people don’t get shot for making a joke- which shows that it must be evil because it’s only ever evil people that get murdered…

So in the past I’ve written a number of satirical pieces on here- but now I have seen the error of my ways! I mistakenly believed it was one of the stalwart institutions of a free society, employed since the dawn of democracy to challenge the ways we look at the world. How wrong I was. Because of all the whining and butthurt comments I’ve seen on this blog and around the internet in general, I realise now it launches indefensible attacks on ideas, cultures and people. Obviously it is an evil enterprise conducted only by the most narcissistic, nasty and noxious of human beings. Don’t believe me? Well prepare to be bamboozled by my really, really, really well thought out arguments:

  • Because satirists are offensive bastards who should be shot. It is literally their job to cause offence- that’s right, you heard me correctly. They’re trying to get under your skin and make you think- the shits. “But that’s not nice! I don’t want my ideas challenged!” I hear you say- no it isn’t nice or genteel or polite in any way- hence the only respectable response is violence. Because obviously words are provocative and if you say something mean, people should retaliate by killing you. (Or at the very least assault)

pope-insult

  • Because satire is unsanitary. It’s not just that it uses downright offensive language- but that it’s all around unwholesome, inappropriate and dirty as hell. And if you can’t have it around your kids then it’s got no place in society. OH LORD WON’T YOU THINK OF THE CHILDREN!!

think-of-the-children

  • Because it uses humour as a weapon– and humour should never be used as a weapon. There’s obviously got to be a better solution to difference of opinion than talking it over or laughing about it. I mean, that’s what fists were made for. Duh.

singing-sword

  • Because satire is a double edged sword and satirists are always falling on their swords (the dumb fucks). I mean, forget all about killing satirists, they usually string themselves up in their work, tying themselves in knots with their blatantly ridiculous arguments, their self-deprecating humour and their inability to keep their mouths shut. If anything the biggest victims of satire are the satirists themselves. We should all join in solidarity to pity the poor fools that feel compelled to make this stuff. (In fact we should pity them with our money and attention- by buying their stuff and publicising them as much as possible. That’s the only way to show them how much we loathe them)
  • Because satire is a slippery genre that refuses to be pinned down– it’s not something to be taken seriously and yet it’s often a cover for serious issues- what are we supposed to make of that?!? Again- it’s like satirists want us to use our brains or something… The nerve of it!

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  • Because satire breaks all the rules. Don’t you know there are rules about what is and what is not funny? It’s not just about what makes you laugh. No, no, no!! It’s about obeying rules. Nothing says “laugh out loud” like being told by totalitarian tyrants when to laugh. Personally I find it hilarious to have someone standing over me informing me when it is safe to belly laugh and when I’d better keep my chuckles to myself! (For instance, right now I am making a really serious point and don’t want you to laugh! Stop laughing!! I said STOP!!!)

And that is where I’ll leave you. I hope you now know how truly despicable the satirical genre is and that you feel sufficiently sorry for satirists in general- enough to read, promote and share their work as much as possible 😉

Queen of the Tearling Made Me Cry… From Boredom

queen of the tearling

I didn’t know how to do this review- cos this book was just so lacklustre for me that even the thought of it made me spiral into a state of mind-numbing boredom. So I decided to get a little creative and wrote the script for a potential honest book trailer. Enjoy!

*Puts on booming trailer voice*

In a world that makes no sense, meet a heroine that’s so boring, you will want to cry.

Watch (or rather read) as she reads fast…

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Skin a rabbit…

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And rides a horse…

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All as she prepares to be the queen of the shittiest kingdom ever invented. (Seriously this kingdom sucks so much I have absolutely no idea why someone would want to conquer it)

You will be on the edge of your seat waiting for the anti-climactic, non-events of their journey to the capital to come to fruition… All of which will make you wonder:

are we nearly there yet.png

(and this is coming from someone who thinks watching 9 hours of hobbits wandering around Middle Earth is entertaining)

Wait around for occasional appearances from the villain who is too “busy” (*ahem*) with her slaves to actually get involved in the plot, even while the heroine constantly provokes her…

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And be vaguely dissatisfied by magic being used sporadically as convenient plot devices- just so this book can get the label of being the next “Hunger Games and Game of Thrones” rolled into one (if you believe that you’ll believe anything)

Annnd that’s about it. As you can probably tell, I did not enjoy this book. It wasn’t the worst book I’ve ever read but I can’t give it more than…

Rating: 2/5 bananas

half bananahalf banana

Alright so I know this book’s pretty popular- but let me know in the comments what *you* thought about it! Like it? Dislike it? Let me know!

Not Suitable for Children! Reading Between the Lines of Dogger…

So it’s been a long time since I’ve done this, but I thought I’d do some more “reading between the lines” of one of my favourite childhood books…

*Insert usual disclaimer that this is satire*

doggerWell, I have to say I used to think this book was suitable for children, but boy was I wrong! The subliminal messages in “dogger” would give Freudian psychologists a field day! I mean, just look at the wordplay in title for heavens sake!

And what about the fact it’s all about a toy getting lost and found… I mean it’s not too difficult to insert some Fifty Shades of Grey style thoughts in there!

NO THIS IS NOT ME READING TOO MUCH INTO IT!! Like every good psychoanalytical reading I just happen to see phallic symbols everywhere… And incest- cos siblings in books equal incest- you’ll know this if you’ve ever studied English Lit… Every single book is corrupted by sex and you’ve got to take my word for it because *I have credentials*- very, very shiny credentials! (No- I’m not reading it this way cos I’m a bit of a pervert- don’t you try to psychoanalyse me now!)

I think my argument can be summed up thus:

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So yeah, I think I proved my point there. Obviously this book is an absolute disgrace and you should in no way buy this for your children for Christmas!  (maybe just for a friend who appreciates a giggle …)

Okay, that’s all for now- I think that got slightly weird….