Year Zero writers meet up with New York's knickerbocker circus at the Poetry Cafe in London's Covent Garden. Penny Goring, Dan Holloway, Larry Harrison, Marc Nash, Daisy Anne Gree & Katelyn V. Foisy. Author readings and art installation.
May 20th at 8 pm.
May 20th at 8 pm.
After a great event in March at the Albion Beatnik bookstore in Oxford - one of the coolest places to hang out in Oxford and a top indie bookshop - the Year Zero crew return to Oxford for a gig at the OCADA gallery on 14th April (6-8 pm).
Musicians have yet to be announced, but I'm hoping to see Jessie Grace and possibly the Namibian singer-songwriter Christi Warner. Authors will include Dan Holloway, Penny Goring and Larry Harrison. If you're anywhere near Oxford UK, make a point of dropping in to the OCADA for this free music and words event!
Musicians have yet to be announced, but I'm hoping to see Jessie Grace and possibly the Namibian singer-songwriter Christi Warner. Authors will include Dan Holloway, Penny Goring and Larry Harrison. If you're anywhere near Oxford UK, make a point of dropping in to the OCADA for this free music and words event!
A review of the free gig on February 4th in London's Brick Lane, featuring indie bands and Year Zero Writers Young Literary London
The next gig will be on the evening of Tuesday February 23rd at To Hell With Books, 10 Woburn Place, London WC1H 0JL
Meanwhile, as an appetiser, here's part of Penny Goring's reading
The next gig will be on the evening of Tuesday February 23rd at To Hell With Books, 10 Woburn Place, London WC1H 0JL
Meanwhile, as an appetiser, here's part of Penny Goring's reading
This is Daisy Anne Gree's incredible trailer for the Year Zero Writer's gig in London's Brick Lane (Feb 4th). New York gig to be announced.
The readers are Daisy and Dan Holloway.
Year Zero Writers have had a successful three months, with the publication of their first seven novels. They are:
29 Jobs & A Million Lies, by Jenn Topper
A, B & E, by Marc Nash
Babylon, by Daisy Anne Gree
Benny Platonov, by Oli Johns
Black Lace, by Marcella O’Connor
Glimpses of a Floating World, by Larry Harrison
Songs from the Other Side of the Wall, by Dan Holloway
The group will celebrate the launch of their second anthology, 13 Shadows Waiting for Sunrise, with a series of live events featuring readings by the authors, as well as music and other multimedia experiences. The first free gig will be at Rough Trade Records, in London's Brick Lane, on February 4th 2010. Anyone associated with SG UK is welcome to come along and take part.
Music will be from Jessie Grace, To The Moon and InLight. The authors reading extracts from their work include Penny Goring, Daisy Anne Gree, Larry Harrison and Dan Holloway. Free samples of Year Zero writing can be found on the year Zero website It will be possible to buy signed copies of novels at the gig, together with the exclusive Year Zero Tour T-shirt.![]()
29 Jobs & A Million Lies, by Jenn Topper
A, B & E, by Marc Nash
Babylon, by Daisy Anne Gree
Benny Platonov, by Oli Johns
Black Lace, by Marcella O’Connor
Glimpses of a Floating World, by Larry Harrison
Songs from the Other Side of the Wall, by Dan Holloway
The group will celebrate the launch of their second anthology, 13 Shadows Waiting for Sunrise, with a series of live events featuring readings by the authors, as well as music and other multimedia experiences. The first free gig will be at Rough Trade Records, in London's Brick Lane, on February 4th 2010. Anyone associated with SG UK is welcome to come along and take part.
Music will be from Jessie Grace, To The Moon and InLight. The authors reading extracts from their work include Penny Goring, Daisy Anne Gree, Larry Harrison and Dan Holloway. Free samples of Year Zero writing can be found on the year Zero website It will be possible to buy signed copies of novels at the gig, together with the exclusive Year Zero Tour T-shirt.
Like music, film, and to some extent fine art, the book publishing industry has been dominated by the big corporations in recent years, who are risk averse and demand much bigger profit margins than the publishers of old. They are squeezing out original, edgy fiction in favour of bland, inoffensive pap. Authors have been slow to react, but they are beginning to follow the example of indie bands and record labels. Together with 19 other authors, from Hong Kong, the USA, Europe and the Middle East, I've joined a collective, known as Year Zero Writers, which will publish our own books (www.yearzerowriters.wordpress.com). The group's first project, started in March 2009, was a novel, The Man Who Painted Agnieszka's Shoes, written in real time as a dialogue with readers, and given away for free on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=49068587189).
This month, thirteen of us have provided samples of our work for the collection Brief Objects of Beauty and Despair, which we are giving away as a free pdf (download from www.songsfromtheothersideofthewall.co.uk and also available from www.yearzerowriters.wordpress.com). We don't have the marketing budgets of the big battalions, but we aim to make up for it by embracing new media such as the microblogging site Twitter, where we already have a devoted following of over 1000.
The first novels by members of the collective will be released on September 1st and will be available from Amazon. The first titles will include my novel about heroin use, Glimpses of a Floating World, described as an elegy to the lost underbelly of Sixties London; Benny Platonov, by Hong Kong resident Oli Johns, which tells of an exile from the former East Germany who believes he can save Hong Kong's homeless; and Songs From the Other Side of the Wall by Dan Holloway, the heartbreaking story of a teenage girl growing up in post-communist Hungary who dreams of following her mother to the West. Extracts from each of these stories, and others, are available for free in Brief Objects of Beauty and Despair, while the entire text of Songs From the Other Side of the Wall can be downloaded for free from www.songsfromtheothersideofthewall.co.uk
This site also has a link to the Free-e-day site, the biggest ever cultural electronic giveaway & celebration of the independent creative spirit. Free-e-day is for every singer, writer, artist, artisan, photographer, or film-maker, who believes that the most important part of culture is the fans. And it's for everyone who loves culture and wants to experience the very best of it, or just try out something new, for free.
This month, thirteen of us have provided samples of our work for the collection Brief Objects of Beauty and Despair, which we are giving away as a free pdf (download from www.songsfromtheothersideofthewall.co.uk and also available from www.yearzerowriters.wordpress.com). We don't have the marketing budgets of the big battalions, but we aim to make up for it by embracing new media such as the microblogging site Twitter, where we already have a devoted following of over 1000.
The first novels by members of the collective will be released on September 1st and will be available from Amazon. The first titles will include my novel about heroin use, Glimpses of a Floating World, described as an elegy to the lost underbelly of Sixties London; Benny Platonov, by Hong Kong resident Oli Johns, which tells of an exile from the former East Germany who believes he can save Hong Kong's homeless; and Songs From the Other Side of the Wall by Dan Holloway, the heartbreaking story of a teenage girl growing up in post-communist Hungary who dreams of following her mother to the West. Extracts from each of these stories, and others, are available for free in Brief Objects of Beauty and Despair, while the entire text of Songs From the Other Side of the Wall can be downloaded for free from www.songsfromtheothersideofthewall.co.uk
This site also has a link to the Free-e-day site, the biggest ever cultural electronic giveaway & celebration of the independent creative spirit. Free-e-day is for every singer, writer, artist, artisan, photographer, or film-maker, who believes that the most important part of culture is the fans. And it's for everyone who loves culture and wants to experience the very best of it, or just try out something new, for free.
Posted the first 5 chapters of my book about heroin on a publisher's website, where it can be read for free. I'm hoping that this helps get it out into the world. An extract from the book is in a previous blog.
The book is called Glimpses of a Floating World and is at http://www.authonomy.com/ViewBook.aspx?bookid=1848
"It is 1963, and there is growing concern about the spread of heroin addiction in Britain. While scandals like the Profumo and Challenor cases are exposing the dark underbelly of post-war Britain, a teenage heroin and cocaine addict, Ronnie Jarvis, undergoes a cold turkey in prison. We are shown a world of hard drinking and marital violence, and witness the boy's frantic efforts to escape the influence of his father, a senior police officer.
Guilty of a drug offence, Ronnie is offered his freedom by Detective Constable Andrews, if he will work as a police informer. Ronnie agrees, believing he will find a way to con the police with false information. Andrews demands results, and in desperation Ronnie makes up a story about illegal drugs importation. Subsequent police raids appear to be successful, but senior policemen have planted the evidence, for their own purposes. Without knowing that his son is the police informant, his father accepts a bribe from villains who intend to eliminate a 'grass'. It is planned to take Ronnie out with a staged hit-and-run accident. Ronnie's efforts to stay alive bring police operations in the West End into crisis ..."
The book is called Glimpses of a Floating World and is at http://www.authonomy.com/ViewBook.aspx?bookid=1848
"It is 1963, and there is growing concern about the spread of heroin addiction in Britain. While scandals like the Profumo and Challenor cases are exposing the dark underbelly of post-war Britain, a teenage heroin and cocaine addict, Ronnie Jarvis, undergoes a cold turkey in prison. We are shown a world of hard drinking and marital violence, and witness the boy's frantic efforts to escape the influence of his father, a senior police officer.
Guilty of a drug offence, Ronnie is offered his freedom by Detective Constable Andrews, if he will work as a police informer. Ronnie agrees, believing he will find a way to con the police with false information. Andrews demands results, and in desperation Ronnie makes up a story about illegal drugs importation. Subsequent police raids appear to be successful, but senior policemen have planted the evidence, for their own purposes. Without knowing that his son is the police informant, his father accepts a bribe from villains who intend to eliminate a 'grass'. It is planned to take Ronnie out with a staged hit-and-run accident. Ronnie's efforts to stay alive bring police operations in the West End into crisis ..."
A publisher who maintains a blog which features work-in-progress was going to post this brief extract from the novel I'm working on. Then she changed her mind, on the grounds that it was "too disturbing for a general blog"?
I'm sure that it's not, but I'll post it here so people can see for themselves. The book's called Glimpses of a Floating World, and tells how the escape of a teenage heroin addict in 1960s London brings about a chain of events that ends in murder and mayhem
"They ran Reggie backwards along the dark corridor, a screw holding each arm, and reversed him into the padded cell. That way he couldn't wedge his feet against the doorjamb, or put up any meaningful resistance.
They made him wear a grey woollen dressing gown, but had taken away the cord, so that he wouldn't be able to hang himself. The gown fell open as they rushed him along, and he looked down at his own emaciated body. Each rib could be seen, as clearly as a chicken's when you ripped the meat off the bone. His long blond hair hung down in rats' tails. His cock and balls looked small, shrunken in the cold. Embarrassed, he wanted to cover himself up, but couldn't, and he realised how defenceless he was. That was the first thing the screws had told him: 'You're in prison now, lad, and we can do anything we like to you!'
Reggie was pinned face down on the padded floor, one screw kneeling on his back. His breath came in ragged gasps as he shouted at them to get off. Then, changing tack, he tried pleading with them.
'I just need my fix! Please!'
This seemed to provoke the man restraining him. The knee pressed harder into his back. He felt the warmth of the man's breath, first on the nape his neck, and then in his ear.
'We'll give you an injection, lad: a ruddy meat injection!'
'Right up your fucking arse,' added the second screw.
A third screw, who wore a white jacket, entered the cell, carrying a syringe in one of those kidney-shaped bowls, the kind made of white enamel, with a blue line painted around the rim.
'400 milligrams of Largactil,' White Jacket announced, 'equals one quiet night, for Yours Truly.' He said it with satisfaction, as though he'd just won an argument.
Reggie fought to throw off his persecutors.
'He's getting his dander up now!' laughed the first screw.
'Oh dearie, dearie me!' said White Jacket. 'Should I be worried?'
Reggie smelt an alcohol swab, and felt a large needle stab into his buttocks, the muscle slowly forced apart by the injection. Above him in the ceiling was a red light, behind a steel mesh. It would stay on night and day, so that he would soon lose all sense of time. It was 4 p.m. on the sixth of June, 1963.
His jailors paused to look at him as they departed, swinging the heavy padded door closed. Reggie heard the jangle of a key turning in the lock. He'd not had a fix for over fourteen hours. His feet felt as if they were immersed in icy water, and the chill was seeping up his legs, poised to invade the core of his body. His strength was ebbing away. Every limb felt flimsy, too weak to support his weight. He forced himself to stand. It was hard to walk on the padded floor; it bounced like a mattress and pitched him sideways, so that he swayed around like a gale-struck sapling, and lurched from one wall to another. "
I'm sure that it's not, but I'll post it here so people can see for themselves. The book's called Glimpses of a Floating World, and tells how the escape of a teenage heroin addict in 1960s London brings about a chain of events that ends in murder and mayhem
"They ran Reggie backwards along the dark corridor, a screw holding each arm, and reversed him into the padded cell. That way he couldn't wedge his feet against the doorjamb, or put up any meaningful resistance.
They made him wear a grey woollen dressing gown, but had taken away the cord, so that he wouldn't be able to hang himself. The gown fell open as they rushed him along, and he looked down at his own emaciated body. Each rib could be seen, as clearly as a chicken's when you ripped the meat off the bone. His long blond hair hung down in rats' tails. His cock and balls looked small, shrunken in the cold. Embarrassed, he wanted to cover himself up, but couldn't, and he realised how defenceless he was. That was the first thing the screws had told him: 'You're in prison now, lad, and we can do anything we like to you!'
Reggie was pinned face down on the padded floor, one screw kneeling on his back. His breath came in ragged gasps as he shouted at them to get off. Then, changing tack, he tried pleading with them.
'I just need my fix! Please!'
This seemed to provoke the man restraining him. The knee pressed harder into his back. He felt the warmth of the man's breath, first on the nape his neck, and then in his ear.
'We'll give you an injection, lad: a ruddy meat injection!'
'Right up your fucking arse,' added the second screw.
A third screw, who wore a white jacket, entered the cell, carrying a syringe in one of those kidney-shaped bowls, the kind made of white enamel, with a blue line painted around the rim.
'400 milligrams of Largactil,' White Jacket announced, 'equals one quiet night, for Yours Truly.' He said it with satisfaction, as though he'd just won an argument.
Reggie fought to throw off his persecutors.
'He's getting his dander up now!' laughed the first screw.
'Oh dearie, dearie me!' said White Jacket. 'Should I be worried?'
Reggie smelt an alcohol swab, and felt a large needle stab into his buttocks, the muscle slowly forced apart by the injection. Above him in the ceiling was a red light, behind a steel mesh. It would stay on night and day, so that he would soon lose all sense of time. It was 4 p.m. on the sixth of June, 1963.
His jailors paused to look at him as they departed, swinging the heavy padded door closed. Reggie heard the jangle of a key turning in the lock. He'd not had a fix for over fourteen hours. His feet felt as if they were immersed in icy water, and the chill was seeping up his legs, poised to invade the core of his body. His strength was ebbing away. Every limb felt flimsy, too weak to support his weight. He forced himself to stand. It was hard to walk on the padded floor; it bounced like a mattress and pitched him sideways, so that he swayed around like a gale-struck sapling, and lurched from one wall to another. "
Is it me, or is there a change in the kind of girls getting new sets onto SG? It's a long time since I felt I just had to download a pic, or even comment on a set. (I always comment, unless I feel indifferent or negative. I figure there are enough negative comments without adding mine.)
The new SGs seem a lot less risky, a lot more mainstream. Like Playboy with tats. Where are all the punky, alternative, fuck-off-if-you-don't-like-it SGs gone? Are we heading into a smoother, more sanitised future - no more sets in back alleys or vacant lots? No more getting stoned in the back of cars or drunk in the railway sidings? Sigh.
The new SGs seem a lot less risky, a lot more mainstream. Like Playboy with tats. Where are all the punky, alternative, fuck-off-if-you-don't-like-it SGs gone? Are we heading into a smoother, more sanitised future - no more sets in back alleys or vacant lots? No more getting stoned in the back of cars or drunk in the railway sidings? Sigh.
I haven't changed a light bulb for over 5 years, because like most British people I've gone over to long-life flourescent ones. From the recent debate on this web site it's clear that, like many ecological measures, this is still far from the norm in the States, where many people still use power-hungry incandescent lights. It's really weird how far Americans are behind other developed countries when it comes to ecology - presumably because the world's most powerful country is the target for the oil industry lobby, and they have succeeded in keeping these issues off the agenda. Again and again, you find issues that are big news in Europe don't receive much coverage in the US media. Friends in Iowa, for example, were surprised that we avoided buying GM products - just not an issue back home.
The Bush administration has fought a long campaign, not just against Kyoto but to water down any UN proposals on climate change. It is almost inconceivable that a country with such a first class university system, responsible for training more scientists than any other nation, should have a President who not only refuses to take action over global warming, but prevents the rest of the world from doing so. This is probably the greatest crime of which posterity will find him guilty - which is saying something. The scientific consensus is that greenhouse gas emissions are behind global warming, and the precaustionary principle means that along with all other measures those gases must be reduced. But that simple truth hasn't reached the White House, which operates in a parallel reality, in which there is no civil war in Iraq, and the battle of Armageddon is going to resolve the Middle East situation.
The Bush administration has fought a long campaign, not just against Kyoto but to water down any UN proposals on climate change. It is almost inconceivable that a country with such a first class university system, responsible for training more scientists than any other nation, should have a President who not only refuses to take action over global warming, but prevents the rest of the world from doing so. This is probably the greatest crime of which posterity will find him guilty - which is saying something. The scientific consensus is that greenhouse gas emissions are behind global warming, and the precaustionary principle means that along with all other measures those gases must be reduced. But that simple truth hasn't reached the White House, which operates in a parallel reality, in which there is no civil war in Iraq, and the battle of Armageddon is going to resolve the Middle East situation.
