Hello all, back again.
My comedy book Memoirs of a Bar Steward is now available on Amazon (ebook), I've been working on this story in many different forms for many years but last year I finally found the format I was happiest with and wrote it like a diary.
Here is the book's blurb and a sample piece:
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B003X9571W/comedyguide-20/
Product Description
Memoirs of a Bar Steward follows eighteen year old Jacob Hank Cox as he struggles to make his family's new business a success and himself a millionaire so that he can finally escape from them all forever. Jacob and his family find themselves moving (escaping more like) to a little seaside town because Mother is finally tired of cracking skulls and running the most ruthless gang in the West Midlands, but how has Father, forever in debt, managed to find the thousands of pounds for the new business?
Join Jacob as he battles for success with a little (well, no) help from his idiotically dangerous twin brother Miller, his disastrous best friend Curly and his annoyingly cool younger brother Clint. On their journey they'll face terrible perils, monstrous foes and maybe even love (or just deadly sex).
SAMPLE CHAPTER:
Saturday 19th August 2000
1542 Hrs
THE MEETING
Dad should be French. He gives up too easily. He spends too much time feeling sorry for himself, and not enough time doing anything useful. He woke me up early this morning at 10am to tell me that he was calling a critical family meeting this afternoon (secret from Mom of course) at 1 o'clock, because he had something very important to discuss with all of the family. Dad of course didn‟t really have the authority to call meetings about my business but I thought I would indulge him; he might surprise me and have something useful to say.
"Last night I learnt new information which caused me to **** my pants". Well done Dad, what a great way to start a business conference, I should use that line when I'm in Parliament in a few years. He went on to explain to Miller, Clint and Curly what the late Bertie and Antony had told me and him before they killed each other last night (basically that the pub makes **** all money).
"I've got enough dough to keep this place running for roughly a month. If it isn't making any money by the end of that period, then we're ****ed. We‟re gonna lose the business, we're gonna lose the roof over our heads and I‟m gonna lose....well we're all going to lose our shot at the good life. What I want from you lot are ideas to get the punters and the money rolling in."
I tried to tell Dad that he was worrying for no reason, that I had a Masterplan but he wasn't having any of it. He said that he wanted us all to go off and have a good, long, hard think. He has called another meeting (yet again he stressed, no word to Mom about it) for 3 o'clock tomorrow, where he wants to hear what we have come up with. He said he will be picking only one idea and then we all must concentrate our combined efforts on it. Well if it makes the Umpa Loompas feel like they are contributing, then I suppose it will make for a happier chocolate factory, but I'm sure everyone will see that I am the big Willy Wonka here!
Come people - that's not bad.
