Paul Magrs's Blog, page 3

'Silver Jubilee' and 'Christmassy Tales'

 

I've published a number of collections of short fiction over the years. My first was 'Playing Out' in 1997, and then there was 'Twelve Stories' in 2009. I've written a whole bunch of stories in the years since then, and some have come out in anthologies or been broadcast or published in this book or that website. Quite a number I've just put away to dwell on and go back to and keep on revising.
Anyhow - they're all ready to come out now! This autumn I've brought out two collections containing twenty-five stories between them. (One is Christmassy-themed because I realised I seem to spend half my time writing about Christmas..!) I hope you'll like both books - between them they represent a lot of the hidden work that I've been up to in the years since my last collection.

My Pangolin Story

 

The opening lines of the Christmas story I wrote early this morning...
"‘Cancelled..? Are you sure, Santa..?’ asked the pangolin. ‘I don’t think that can be right, can it..?’ The strange, sturdy little beast had clambered over the back of the sleigh’s passenger seat to come and sit beside the old man."

Blinovitch Birthday

 

"Ahh, but that's the Blinovitch Time Limitation Effect..."
In 1986 my birthday present was the VHS tape of 'Day of the Daleks' (ordered from John Fitton's mail order Dr Who catalogue!) Last night I rewatched it with my drawing book open and all my colours ready..!

Looking forward to When

 

A year ago it was my 50th birthday party. I was determined to organise myself a do, with music and friends and food - and we did it! So many people came from all over the country to be there. As ever with these things, lots couldn't make it, and I was a bit sad because my mam and family couldn't be there. But there was such a lovely turnout - about as many people as the years I was celebrating! And they all brought wonderful home made, handcrafted cards.
We started dancing quite late on and it became a bit of a wild rumpus, that whole weekend. I thought at the time that there's really no reason not to be having parties every single year...
Right now I wish we could have parties. I wish we could even just sit with a bunch of friends in the living room. Some of my favourite nights are just a few friends round, food and drink and the telly. Singsongs and arts and crafts and board games and old records and laughter. It doesn't even have to be a big do.
Let's hope that soon... soon!... we can get our own lives back. In the past few days I've felt like the world has maybe turned a corner. Just hearing the first good news of 2020 from the US on Saturday has been reason enough to start being optimistic again.
So... yet another quiet night in (during a year of endless quiet nights in!) for my birthday later this week when it comes - and very fond memories of being with my friends and family. Being able to hug them and dance with them and share our times together. And looking forward. Always looking forward to when.

The Willows in Lockdown

 

The Willows in Lock Down
MARCH
SPRING! Spring is here! I dart out of my burrow and into the open air. It smells delicious out here. New life! New stuff! New hopes! Fresh air! Hurray! Hurray for another new year by the riverbank! I rush straight over to Ratty’s house, hoping for a good lunch and a catch-up of all I’ve missed during hibernation. Ratty’s sitting on his porch with a pot of tea and the newspaper. ‘Ah, Moley, old chum.’ ‘Ratty! It’s spring! I’m back awake – and the whole countryside is coming back to life!’ He looks at me sadly for a moment and says, ‘I’ve got some news for you, Moley. It’s all going to be quite different this year.’ ‘Oh?’ ‘Yes, I… err… I’d best explain…’
*
APRIL
Every day Ratty and I take our hour of exercise by walking alongside the riverbank a little way and then back again. All the blossom is out now, pink and white. I never get bored because the trees change every day. Ratty is more restless than I. ‘It’s becoming what you might call rather samey,’ he observes. ‘What say we take the boat out tomorrow to a spot downriver and find a new place to have our walk?’ ‘Are we allowed?’ I ask fretfully. ‘I’m sure we are. And what’s more I’m going to go bonkers if I don’t get to see some new scenery soon.’ I think Moles are better equipped for Lock Downs than Rats. ‘That’s because you’re almost blind and you like digging holes,’ he says. ‘You’re more easily pleased than I am. I’m craving all kinds of things.’ I must have looked hurt then because he added, ‘Oh, but you’ve been lovely company during this pandemic so far, old chum. I couldn’t have asked for better. Honestly!’
*
MAY
‘I’ve been furloughed!’ Toad complains loudly. He’s standing at the end of the jetty, several feet away from us. For once he’s observing proper Social Distancing Rules, rather than jumping up and down, flapping all around and slobbering on us. ‘You’ve been what?’ I ask. ‘I’ve been sent home from work and I still get paid,’ he says, looking amazed and smug. ‘Where do you even work?’ Ratty snaps. ‘You don’t have a job! You only ever stay at home anyway. You’re rich, you idiot.’ ‘Oh yes,’ said Toad. ‘It’s just everyone was saying it.’ ‘Yes, well. It doesn’t apply to you.’ ‘But what about this working from home business?’ he asks. ‘Will I have to do that?’ Ratty is losing patience with him. ‘YOU CAN’T DO ANYTHING ANYWAY! YOU’RE TOAD, TOAD! Now shut up and go home and STAY HOME!’ ‘Maybe someone in the government could give me a job I could do?’ Toad muses.
*
JUNE
Badger is shielding, deep in his burrow, deep in the Wild Wood. We take a chance and carry a basket of supplies to his door. We knock for ages and eventually he glares beadily through the letterbox. ‘Very kind of you, I’m sure,’ he growls. ‘Coming all this way.’ ‘There’s some plum cake, and some eggs, and some dried pasta. And forty-eight toilet rolls.’ ‘Just pop the basket in front of the door and leave it there,’ he says. ‘I’ll fetch it in when you’ve gone.’ ‘How are you coping on your own, old fellow?’ Ratty asks him. ‘Are you bearing up?’ Badger seems to consider the matter. ‘Well, my life’s hardly any different. It’s just got fewer foolish animals in it. And at least I never have to see that awful Toad.’



JULY
Toad has asked to join our Household Bubble. ‘Look, you chaps. I’ve read up on this, all the government guidance and whatnot. Says that I – lonely and unloved Toad that I am; solitary and hopelessly bereft as I feel – am allowed to team up with one other household. For the sake of good company and my good mental health, don’tcha know. So what do you say, boys? Is that all right with you, if I bubble up with you both?’ ‘Absolutely not,’ says Ratty, and turns on his heel.
*
AUGUST
Sometimes at night you can hear parties going on in the Wild Wood. ‘Weasels!’ Ratty groans. ‘Typical! They never do the right thing.’ ‘They sound as if they’re having a lovely time,’ I venture. ‘All that hullaboo,’ he frowns. ‘Coughing and spitting on each other, I shouldn’t wonder.’
*
SEPTEMBER
Toad’s insisting that we all go out to dinner. ‘We have to Eat Out To Help Out,’ he says. ‘We can’t arrange in advance to meet up at the restaurant, but if we happen to meet By Chance, that’s fine. We can sit down together and pretend we’re in a Bubble and then we get to eat as much as we like for free.’ ‘I’m not sure you’ve got that quite right, Toad,’ sighs Ratty. ‘It’s true! I’m right! And if we do this we’ll be Helping Out The Economy, or something. So – will you both come? I quite fancy Chinese. Or an Indian, perhaps.’ ‘Ooh! A restaurant!’ I gasp, counting back on my claws and realising that it was probably last December I last went anywhere like that. ‘Oh, very well,’ says Ratty tetchily. ‘But I think it’s all probably a terrible idea.’
* OCTOBER
Toad is going round saying the whole thing is a hoax. He refuses to wear a mask. ‘Look at you lot! You all look ridiculous. I’m not hiding my lovely face for the sake of something that probably isn’t even real.’
*
NOVEMBER
Toad is in hospital. He tried escaping in a hazmat suit but they dragged him back. ‘I sort of miss him,’ Ratty admits.

Lockdown Eve

 

Lockdown Eve

Wednesday night
Lockdown Eve

And the pubs are closing
Everything’s closing again

Everyone’s home
Home in bubbles

Everything’s closing again

He comes coughing down your chimney
Wheezing round your windows

Less than a metre away
He never wears a mask

Put out some pasta
For old Father Lockdown

Leave out toilet rolls
For old Father Lockdown
And don’t forget

He’ll come round to arse up
All your plans

He’ll bring an awful offering
A bowl of bat soup
Maybe pangolin blood

Don’t listen when
Old Father Lockdown says

Come out
Come out
Come out to play

Winter’s coming
Waiting out the weeks
Waiting out the weeks for a month

Winter’s coming
But it’ll all blow over
It’ll all blow over

Three New Books for my Silver Anniversary

 

Today it's exactly 25 years since my first novel was published. In celebration I've brought out three very different books this autumn - my collected festive-themed stories, 'Christmassy Tales'. 'Silver Jubilee' - a collection of stories spanning my whole career. And 'Mooncalf'... a brand new and queerly magical realist fairy tale for all ages - about unicorns, witches and a dragon or two.

(All available through amazon)

The ‘Wind in the Willows’ guide to being a writer

 

The ‘Wind in the Willows’ guide to being a writer. Too many writers are like Toad of Toad Hall, running about drawing attention to themselves, trying to be flashy. What you really need to be like is the rest of them. You need the worldliness and skill of Ratty. The hard-won wisdom of Badger. You need the kindness and humility of Mole.

Silver Jubilee

 

This is going to be available in paperback and ebook very soon: a new collection of short stories to mark twenty-five years of publishing. Many of them are published here for the first time.

Here's the blurb:

"It’s twenty-five years since I published my first short story, and my first novel! And what a fascinating and bumpy and amazing ride it’s been since then..!

I’ve tried my utmost to be the very best Queer Northern Magical Realist that you could ever imagine!

So… as a kind of jamboree to celebrate this milestone, I have put together a volume of stories. Some are old, some are obscure, some are completely brand new!

I hope you’ll enjoy them and go off and explore all the other things I’ve done over the years. Collect everything! Buy the lot! Have a ball!

Take care, everyone. Lots of love!

Pxxx

Autumn, 2020"

Doctor Who - Time Lord Victorious: The Knight, The Fool and the Dead by Steve Cole