It’s All Fools Day. Time for a Laugh.

Friends, if you would care to visit your local Amazon store (Australia, America, UK, Canada, Germany, or wherever – other formats available soon), you will see that my new novel, Cargo Cult has finally hit the shelves. For a while, it will be available at a special, low launch price. So, if you plan to buy, sooner would be better than later.

Cargo Cult is the first science fiction comedy to be released by me. Humour is, as we all know, completely subjective. But then, so is everything else. Let’s face it, these days, people seem to think believing what science tells us is a matter of choice (thank you post-modernist cultural relativists, we owe you one) so why not humour too? I mean, it’s all right for Johnson to go around kicking rocks, saying, “Thus I refute it!” but that’s not going to make people laugh at the thousands of funny bits in this novel, is it?

The fact is, I’m scared. If the book doesn’t sell, it’ll be OK, but if it does, the 1-star reviews are going to come pouring in – especially from people who can’t spell puerile but who will feel the need to say it anyway. I realise now why I’m not a stand-up comic. I can all-too-easily imagine myself hanging onto the mike stand, creasing myself with laughter at my own jokes, while the audience is throwing beer glasses and shoes at me.

The thing is, I think Cargo Cult is funny. I must have read it through ten times now and I still laugh out loud in some parts. I still love the scene where the Lalantran agent goes into Sluggies, the narcotics bar on Arabis 5, or when our confused alien protagonist, Drukk, first meets Sam, or when Braxx, leader of a group of alien religious fanatics talks to the bus he’s just commandeered. There’s a writer who can’t quit his day job, politicians behaving badly, a cult leader with a magnetic personality, an idiot younger brother and a domineering older sister, a cop who’s way out of his depth in all kinds of ways, the Kanaka Downs Garden Club, evil machine intelligences, and, of course, the Cargo Cult itself. Oh, and did I mention the kangaroos?

Look, put me out of my misery, please. Read it. Then tell me – without using the word puerile if you possibly can – what you thought.