Flar-Fung

Hey fat ladies you know I done released a new book with lots of good people and had a launch and swore in front of a crowd and everything. Here a breakdown of the launch night as it happened in the chronological order that I remember it being in though I am an Unreliable Narrator:

I woke in the morning, threw up while I made coffee which takes a bit longer but it’s good to get two things out of the way at once. Got a text from Sue(boss) saying we would actually have books for the launch. Looked at the photo of the books and had massive buyer’s remorse on every decision I’ve ever made. Questioned whether I ever had any talent or wrote anything even remotely sensical or if I should just become a manager at a fast food store and spend my waking hours frustrated by unruly teenagers doing the same dang thing I used to do nearly twenty years ago. Made breakfast for toddler and wife. Wife went to work and I juggled checking my phone for emergencies and building a rocketship out of every object within reach of toddler. Made rocket engine noises while toddler released the booster engines into the ocean and released the space shuttle and opened the solar panels. Me Mam arrived, I paced a bit then headed to a meeting with Sue(boss).

Had a prelunch beer for my nerves and Sue(boss) brought a stack of goddamn gorgeous books. They looked good, they felt good, they smelt good. I wanted to lie in a pile of em. Opened it up and saw several typos but had a beer in me so just did not fuckin care it was party time.

Got back home. Gave toddler lunch and actually decided to eat something was very proud of myself. Put together outfit at the exact right amount of serious for my writer persona. Was torn between nice button up or metal shirt with a wizard drinking beer on it. Sanity prevailed and I wore beer wizard shirt. Dressed toddler, Nanna dressed herself. Waited for wife to get home from work.

Paced

Had a whiskey

Paced

Wife got home and threw new clothes on. Piled into car, sat in traffic fukn sweating. Tried to remember all the interesting things I had to say at the launch while planning the best parking spot in West End on a Friday night. Toddler did not want to be in the car. Brain felt like melting butter. Got there 20 minutes early. Met my Good Friend Trent Jamieson at the pub across the road. Slammed down a pint while wife and I juggled toddler climbing every piece of furniture in sight. Walk over to Avid Reader buzzed as an apiarist.

Got through logistics, hid outside with a beer even though I knew pretty much every dang person waiting inside.

Sat up the front with Good Friend Trent Jamieson as the audience piled in. Waved individually to each of the like thirty people I knew. Made some jokes. Started riding high on my own goof juice. Good Friend Trent Jamieson introduced the collection and was way too nice about me considering who I am.

Cool Guy Jamie Stevens read first. Brought the dang house down. Took credit for myself to myself for discovering him. Cool Lady Grace Hammond read next. Story about fast food workers in dystopian polluted Brisbane which Speaks to me. Answered some questions about the collection and spec fic from Good Friend Trent Jamieson. Tried to sound smart, unsure about success, ask my wife she is Honest. Had toddler try to climb me for a bit before Grandad took him for a Walk. Answered some real thinkers from the crowd. Time was almost up and got a question about what makes Brisbane special. Said Brisbane is the arsehole of the universe, and I want to explore the arsehole of the universe. Suddenly had a new catchphrase.

Signing table was chaos. Had six people. Massive scramble while trying to at least make contact with the people I knew who’d traveled long miles to make me feel good about my terrible career choice. Saw toddler dragged out of bookstore screaming and red-faced. Promised a lot of people I’d sign their books later. Filed out of Avid cos they were closing. Time flew like a stealth jet.

Loitered out front trying to figure out where to eat. Group disintegrated and ended up across the road with motley assortment of writers plus my dad. Ate fish and chips and drank more beer and talked writing. Was once again proud of myself for eating cos I aint the best at it. Dad headed home which is fair enough he’s over sixty.

Wound up at The End. Place I first met my wife, long years ago when I was a hopeless mess. A lot of memories there, most of them involving kick-ons after book launches and writer events. It is the logical place to hole up into the morning slamming pints and talking about being what we are, which is writers. Lost track of the amount of beers I downed, swore a lot because I didn’t have a two-year-old audience. Felt good to swear. Wanted to walk home but was convinced to share an uber with one of my uni lecturers and an author I am publishing.

Got home about 2am. Wife and toddler were asleep. Did something I aint done in a long time and had a 2am whiskey by myself and thought:

Writing is a lonely pursuit, hundreds of hours spent in your own head living in a different universe and fighting your ego like the greedy dragon it is. No wonder when you get a bunch of writers together with something to celebrate we get loose and go hard. There’s a magic in unravelling, when you’ve put your blood and heart on the page and had someone dissect it and rearrange it until you were numb to your own insides. When you’ve bared your throat to the wolf and it wasn’t the end of the world or the big event that suddenly makes the universe right, but just another thing you’ve made. When it’s time to just get a bit drunk and move on.

I love this book. All the authors made some really good shit to put in it. The cover is exactly as handsome as I am (Very). The typesetting and editing and all the little gribbly bits. The stress and late nights and second thoughts. The typos and things I’d do differently. It is a thing that was made and it adds a positive amount to the universe and all our caveman ancestors are howling in heaven and yelling “they made thing.”

Buy it here at Avid Reader: https://www.avidreader.com.au/p/far-flung-2796474?barcode=9780648403456

Now all that’s left to do is make a continuous stream of new books until I die.