Tuesday, February 03, 2009


Enid Hans (to crush a righteous golem...)

The second chapter of Twisthorn Bellow is finished and the third is progressing well. The first chapter is called 'The Wings of Phoebus'; the second is 'The Pots of Pan'; the third is 'The Skin of Marsyas'; and others will be 'The Earlobes of Aesop' and 'The Shoelaces of Jupiter'... I intend to use classical allusions for all the chapters. That's the sort of man I am. The final chapter will probably be called 'The Clangers of Paris', but the Paris in question is the Trojan man rather than the French capital. Having said that, the main action is narrated by the Eiffel Tower...

The latest monster to join the pantheon of baddies ranged against our hero isn't French but Prussian. Here we see him in action. Enid Hans. He has massive hands! Not only can he use them to grip and gesture, but they enable him to fly too. That's quite bad! In an emergency he can even open bottles of wine. Makes him more sociable... Despite the paucity of my photography skills, as evidenced here, I have managed to trick the publishers of my forthcoming Mister Gum novel into letting me do that book's cover!

Smugness, pretension, insufferability... Somebody has to take on those responsibilities. Never one to shirk my duties -- except when it suits me -- I recently took great care to ensure that those three qualities featured prominently in this interview I have just given to the Americymru Network, an online community dedicated to things that are American and/or Welsh. The interview will be in three parts. In part three I plan to ask the questions to you. That's not the way things are normally done. Are you ready?

No one knows why I encourage you, least of all myself, yet this readily occurs each time you utter such mad concepts as World Landmarks narrating novels and interviews which contain questions put to the reader of the article.

So, once more, the cry is made:
Go you!
How are people enjoying the inclement weather? Here in London it is shocking; we are snowbound! The girlfriend has managed to get in to work, but I am at home with half a bottle of vodka, some cheese and pickle sandwiches and I am watching Star Trek (old-skool 1960's, not that modern rubbish...). Keep warm, everyone!!!
I want to be Burris Ewell when I grow up.
Ah, wit; I guess if I looked like you I.A.M. I'd have to resort to half-assed insults as well....
On the contrary, Burris; I meant what I said in all seriousness. The idea of sitting inside with Vodka and the original series of Star Trek sounds glorious!

Honestly, I meant no slight!

Beg pardon for the confusion.
If I.A.M ever did become Burris Ewell, he'd have to answer queries about who he was in the following manner:

"I.A.M. Burris Ewell... Who are you?"

...One of the monsters in my Twisthorn Bellow novel is a yeti called MeMeMeMeMe U.

His surname is U because yetis speak Tibetan and Tibetan is related to Burmese, apparently, and the surname U is definitely a Burmese surname...

So an encounter might run as follows:

"Who are you?"

"I.A.M. Burris Ewell... Who are you?"

"Yes, I.A.M. U."
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