Hello!
First the bad news: Summer is almost over. The good news? It’s Autumn. Let’s have some Keats:
SEASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.
What’s not to love? I can tell you that the blackberries around Norwich are delicious this year, the sea is still pretty warm, and you know, on the whole, life is far better than the alternative.
Autumn, of course, is also the time of Back To School. Please don't hate me, but I always rather liked the big return. That's right. I enjoyed school. I liked the fug of classrooms. I wanted homework. And hey, if you're a fellow spod, and there's still small piece of you nostalgic for filling in all the answers, and trying to come close to the top of the class, I've got just the project for you. Also, if you happen to enjoy writing. Also, if you want a challenge. Also, you know, if you have something to say.
Since you’re reading this newsletter, I’m hoping we’re pretty sympatico. We're likely to like what you do. So please consider entering.
The prize is £500 or a year of professional editorial support from Galley Beggar HQ for a project you're working on. The idea is to build on the success of our Singles Club, and find another way to expose fine writers. It's also, a good way to get those writers a bit of much needed money or, even better, sustained editorial. If we get enough entries we'll put all the surplus aside for our ongoing printing and publishing schedule. That would be a big win. We'll keep you updated.
What else in Autumn?
The only slight fly in the o’er brimming and deliciously clammy ointment is that here at Galley Beggar HQ it also seems to be the season of bills. But there’s good news here too, because to help us pay them we’re having a huge, huge, huge sale. There’s 50% off just about everything in our store. That’s a whole bunch of bargains. Cheaper paperbacks, postcards, digital classics, and ebooks. It’s a whole frenzy of cut price capitalism. Feel free to shop like you just don’t know how to stop. Shop until your bank manager calls you up and questions your sanity. Shop until your mouse explodes, your mind starts fizzing and popping, your computer melts and the sun consumes the earth. Then tell all your friends to get shopping too. Tell them to tell everyone they know. Make sure everyone knows about our sale. Everyone except Jeff Bezos, anyway.
While you're in the store, do please also take a look at our latest Single. Those who remember The Cruellne and what a chuffing amazing story it was, will hopefully be very pleased to see this:
Here’s the blurb:
Rachel's husband has her best interests at heart. He knows what's best for her too. Plus, he's scrupulously fair when it comes to making decisions. Or, at least, that's how he wants to appear. He's a reasonable man. Which makes the events in James Clammer's brilliantly controlled story all the more...
… Well, you'll get there.
Suffice to say, this inspired follow-up to The Cruellne will leave you reeling.
I love James Clammer. He’s a writer who knows exactly where every word should be, what that word should be doing and just how much it should weigh. The care he takes with his stories is astonishing to behold. He’s got a novel coming out next year with Andersen Press and it’s going to be very special. Look out!
Now for a different kind of special. Who saw the article about Amazon’s work practices in the
New York Times? It's astonishing. People crying at their desks. People saying "conflict brings about innovation?" (Didn't they say that about World War II?) Quotes like this:
When she began traveling to care for her father, who was suffering from cancer, and cut back working on nights and weekends, her status changed. She was blocked from transferring to a less pressure-filled job, she said, and her boss told her she was “a problem.”
And this:
A woman who had thyroid cancer was given a low performance rating after she returned from treatment. She says her manager explained that while she was out, her peers were accomplishing a great deal. Another employee who miscarried twins left for a business trip the day after she had surgery. “I’m sorry, the work is still going to need to get done,” she said her boss told her. “From where you are in life, trying to start a family, I don’t know if this is the right place for you.”
It's actually heartbreaking. And these are the people near the top. They have made the morally dubious decision to work in the Death Star, unlike than the poor choiceless folk currently working themselves to the bone in the warehouses and shipment centres... I think I may have mentioned in the past that I think Amazon is EVIL. But still they surprise me. It’s like they’re acting out a cartoon fantasy of being bad. It’s like they deliberately want to hurt people.
But, hey! Hey Jeff, Mr Bezos sir! Can we still be friends? In fact, I got something for you. It’d be swell if you could come over here and get it actually. It’s just warming in the oven. Ah! Here it is! Nice and fresh and doughy. That’s right. Can you smell it? Yum! Jeff! Buddy! I got you one whole slice of fuck off. Here you go. I baked it special. I put some extra fuck off on the side, a nice goo-ey layer of fuck off and cream in the middle and fucking cherries on the top, you unmitigated fucknut. Hey, why don’t you fuck off over there, fucking well eat it, and wash it down with a nice hot cup of fuck off? Then, when you’re done, I guess it must be time for you to fuck off, Jeff. Go on. Fuck off. Fuck off like you’re being chased like the slavering fucking hounds of fucking hell and they each and every fucking one of them can smell that you’ve got a fucking juicy steak hanging out of your back pocket.
But listen, maybe I wasn’t clear? What I'm saying is that I’d really be grateful if you could just fuck off. Fuck off to the far side of fuck and when you get there, fuck off some more. How much more? Fuck off even more than Tony Blair. That’s right. Fuck off that much. Then, drink six strong pints of fuck off and fuck off again. Fuck off, with a whole tribe of fuck offs right behind you, painted blue, waving spears and all of them screaming: “fuck off”. Can you hear them? “Fuck off,” they’re saying. “Fuck off. Go on, fuck off. Fuck right off. Go over there and drink a waterfall full of fuck off. Then come back here and fuck off again. While you're doing that, fuck off. Also, fuck off. Fuck off some more. And fuck off.”
After that, you can probably sit down for a while. But only if you fuck off while you’re doing it. Thanks Jeff!
And thank you too.
Fondly,
Sam
PS The Weightless World is still going strong. I really enjoyed this review on
Savidge Reads. Graham Greene, no less!
PPS As usual, I'm also going to use the end of the newsletter for a few more adverts, where you can safely ignore them, or kindly indulge me, depending on your fancy:
Firstly, please join The Singles Club so we can pay writers to write. Here's the blurb:
We have a fantastic new subscription system set up for our Singles Club so that you now only have to make one payment to get hold of 12 stories. But how to go through the ins and outs of paypal payment systems without boring the dirtbox off you, I don't know. Probably the best thing to do is to head over to the relevant page on our site, where I've tried to give a brief, but to the point explanation, and to take it from there. The important things to know are that:
(1) Subscribing saves you the trouble of going to the site every month to get your fix of superb ebook literature – we'll just email you the files every month.
(2) Subscribing (so long as enough people do it) will enable us to start giving our authors money up front on for each story. Yes! We are going to pay people to write short stories. It's like the golden days of the 1920s. Only they'll be in electronic book format instead of Strand magazine… Anyway! You get the idea. This is a mighty fine way to keep authors doing what they do best – entertaining you.
(3) It costs £12 a year, or £1 a month, or less than a meal in Pizza Express. (Unless you have a voucher.)
Secondly, please be our friend! Become a Galley Buddy. It's a good deal for us, and a great deal for you.
Thirdly, to donate to Galley Beggar Press and earn yet more of our gratitude, click here.
Fourthly, go on, buy a postcard set. They're lovely:
Fifthly, thanks for reading write down to the bottom. There's no prize, but I sure do like you. I've been listening to The Lemonheads quite a lot recently. I like them even more now than I did then. This Guardian article is very fine. Also, apologies for promoting my own journalism, but Elly says this is one of the only times in my life that I've admitted that I'm wrong. Naturally, I think she's mistaken...
Add new comment