Hey remember my gnomic post?
Here’s another one:
Soon I’ll be making a post which contains links where you can buy this book. Soon there will be better information on what this book contains. Until then, brace yourself, and consider the question:
What if not only was everything you knew about yourself wrong, but everything everyone else knew about you was wrong too?
Would you like to know why I spent a large part of yesterday stalking the streets of London in search of a pig’s head, before finally alighting upon the kind people at Godfrey’s of Highbury, who allowed me and my glamorous assistant (the author behind Transrealities and mistress of multiple musical instruments) into their chopping room to take photographs and refused payment for the same?
Well, you’ll have to wait a little longer. Heavy is on its way, but a few more activities, including some with the pig’s head, await prior to publication.
Recently, the author has: cried a lot in a theatre, had a gazebo lobbed at him by God in the middle of a seaside thunderstorm, cried a little bit in a cinema, and got slightly too drunk watching a childhood movie in a park with a bunch of similarly drunk Millennials who finally get all the innuendo we missed when we were seven. He has also been hard at work editing Heavy, planning a new book, and submitting short stories willy-nilly to some remarkably accommodating small presses, and this is why he hasn’t been updating his blog. It’s definitely not because he temporarily forgot that it existed. That would be madness.
A chance collaboration between myself and one of my favourite artists, the winner of multiple Sir Julius Vogel Awards, Emma Weakley, which I shall try to introduce as briefly as possible:
Click on each image to view the full-sized page.
And by “book” I mean “page”.
Phew, look at that. It’s summer! The sky is full of SCREAMING BIRDS and the sun has found the one part of my body I didn’t aggressively spray with Factor 50, and it has burnt it. My mouth, it has burnt my actual mouth, which is what happens when you and your idiot friends decide to go and feed parakeets but you also really feel the need to drink two bottles of wine and half a bottle of gin, break your flipflop and also give yourself a grass rash that makes you look like you’ve lost a fight to an entire battalion of angry domestic cats.
So while the world catches fire, blows itself up, crashes down around my ears, and murders people with vans outside my friend’s flat (ah, London in 2017: an endless roulette of “oh shit what particular area of my city has become a trending hashtag on Twitter today?”, and that is why I am not going to get very far on giving up drinking this year…), I’m gamely trying to squeeze as much fun as I can out of whatever time I have left on this terrify earth. Tom of Finland documentaries, live broadcasts of sad plays about AIDS, panel talks about London history, and a punishing amount of fruity cocktails feature in my near future, always assuming that we don’t get hit by an asteroid or anything (the way this year is going that’s a possibility).
Also, making art, because that’s what you do in times of strife. Admittedly, I think you’re meant to make political art, but sometimes you also need to colour in a cityscape, right?
You can buy this on a whole bunch of stuff.
Or you could, I guess, print it out and colour it in. I mean, it does look like you ought to be able to. Although ideally I’d prefer it if you bought it on something and thus funded my extravagant lifestyle of going to £12 panel talks about Peter Ackroyd books like the London-obsessed gay nerd we are all very, very aware that I am.
“Aren’t you meant to be plotting a novel right now?”
“Don’t you have a manuscript to edit?”
I just finished a pass, let me have five minutes.
“You’ve had rather more than f–”
I made an art. You can buy prints, if you are absolutely desperate to own a print of a bowl of rice rather than an actual bowl of rice. Personally, I would rather have the rice, but I’m very hungry. This particular rice was consumed after an exhaustive examination of the Tate Britain’s long-awaited & hotly-anticipated Queer British Art: 1861 – 1967. I should probably have an opinion on that, on here, at length, but to be honest I feel that drawing a bowl of rice is less contentious and contributes more to the world than me bellyaching about minor details in what is, regardless of my fussing and personal preferences, a splendid step in the right direction regarding the inclusion of queer history.
Step right this way, step inside, and see the greatest show ever to amaze your senses and baffle your mind. Watch! As a budding friendship is slowly but completely transformed before your very eyes! Marvel! At how stupid four very intelligent young people can actually be when confronted with life’s mysteries! Gasp! With indignation at the skullduggery and bad manners brought in the pursuits of love, fame, wealth, and let’s be honest, a lot more wealth. Blush! At some of the language! Laugh! Primarily at some of those waistcoats! Tremble! At the revelation of worlds beyond worlds and compacts most rare and Faustian!
Buy! This! Book!
On Amazon Kindle (US | UK), on Lulu (print | eBook), on iBooks, on Nook, on Kobo…
What’s it about? What’s it about? You’ve heard all this and you still need to know more? Allow me:
The year is 1900. An Earl, an engineer, a suburban philosopher, and an enigma meet at University and make a pact to learn the art of conjuring.
But nothing among the friends is quite as it seems, and soon the happy four are plunged into worlds of political activism, crime, despair, sordid trysts, and a Faustian compact which seems set to threaten their very lives, one by one…
The time has come for another book to be released into the wild, to flourish where it can, like a weed, and hopefully sow fertile seeds in the imagination. Or at least take up some prime real estate on someone’s bookshelf, which is of course identical to becoming an important part of their inner life.
The year is 1900. An Earl, an
engineer, a suburban philosopher,
and an enigma meet at University
and make a pact to learn the art
Consider yourself warned: the rabbit is out of the hat and the cat is out of the bag.
I haven’t used my WACOM in a million years because, uh, it broke.
Then a friend very kindly gifted me a replacement which is BIGGER and BETTER and WIRELESS and DOESN’T WORK BECAUSE THE BATTERY IS DEAD and I don’t have a DC in cable to charge the battery…
But while I waiting for my finances to recover sufficiently (don’t pity me, it’s my own fault for buying a bike and some accidentally expensive Japanese groceries – unless your pity takes the form of Free Money) to buy a DC in cable & adapter so I can actually use my damn thing to draw in a medium that allows more than my regular forrays into “doodling cartoon cats on my work notes”, I have a lot of vector elements, and an idea for a tattoo.
What I don’t have is free time, so it took me an embarrassingly long time from conception to execution, but it’s here now. I will be tattooing it, but I see no reason other people can’t adorn themselves and their belongings with it:
All of the above and many more, including other designs of mine, can be purchased at my Redbubble account. You can also buy it, and a number of other designs, at my PAOM page!
By which I mean you can buy the book.
You can buy it as a paperback from Lulu.com.
You can buy it straight to your Kindle from Amazon US | UK.
You can buy it in a number of ebook formats from a number of epublishing sites, by searching “The Next Big One Derek Des Anges”.
And you should buy it, because god knows where you’re going to find another epidemic thriller with an anxious bisexual hero and the world’s least flappable trans woman scientist in a major starring role. You’re certainly not going to see much in the way of critique of media reporting of disease, and you won’t get much debate. This book is not The Hot Zone. I promise you that much.
With the number of UK cases hitting a hundred, it’s clear that KBV is a problem which isn’t going away. Downing Street have released the following statement: “The total number of KBV cases in the UK is still comparatively small, and we are confident that the disease can be contained. NHS leaflets advising on lifestyle and behaviour changes which can help protect against infection will be available soon. We ask the public to remain calm and to continue to behave responsibly about their health in all areas.
Vocational journalism student Ben Martin is the last person who ought to be investigating a major viral outbreak. He doesn’t know a single damn thing about biology; he pays his rent by DJing for hipsters. He’s nervous, easily-discouraged, and not over his ex.
But it’s him who ends up with the assignment, and it’s him who ends up facing down the truth: there is more to this than meets the eye.
The release time for this creeps ever-closer:
If you’d like to start imagining the book’s protagonist, Ben Martin, right now, please be my guest. He looks like this:
And he has a particularly trying time ahead of him. Keep following for signs of life, death, and deadly global epidemic.
The Next Big One will be available in on Amazon in Kindle and paperback form, and on Lulu in paperback and a variety of ebook formats. You’ve been warned.