~@~

everything's fine now available

for preorder on amazon, weirdly

would be great if you bought it, guys:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Everythings-Fine-Socrates-Adams/dp/0956658318

thanks

~~~~~~~

treat

sitting down to do a little work on the new book, i thought i'd share a little bit of it:

He rounds a corner. Bits of road surface spray away under the force of his wheels. He rounds another corner. He accelerates, wildly thinking about vaginas and wives and the texture of various vaginas of different ages, eyes bulging out of his head and silver hair streaming like a unicorn's mane behind him in the hot Serbian wind and feeling on the rim of something he can't understand, something like madness, or the absence of madness and the absence of everything or some rabbit, wild eyed, scratching for sanity in the dark in a warren being filled with cement.

reveal of the format of everything's fine

hi guys. my novel is coming with a dust-jacket. here's what it will look like, roughly.

NOT QUITE DEFINITELY CONFIRMED BUT NEARLY CONFIRMED FRONT COVER ARTWORK FOR NOVEL

Please click to make bigger, if you like.

The artist is hiding here : http://www.nicwinstanley.com/

a kiss

i try and kiss you so that you can tell me about what it feels like to be kissed. you say, 'it feels fine'. i write it down in a book. i say, 'why did you let me do it?' you say, 'whatever'. i turn and look at the wall for four hours.

-

a bit later you are asleep. i write about it in my notebook and move your hand around without waking you. when you wake up i ask you what it's like to be asleep. you say, 'i can't remember.'

-

the next day you come home from work. you are wearing a grey skirt and a grey jacket and a white shirt. i say, 'what is work like?' you say, 'it's the same as not working.'

-

we look at each other over dinner. you look at me and i look at you. i say, 'what am i like?' you say, 'the same as me.' i say, 'what are you like?' you turn and look at the wall for four hours.

update

my new work is a very commercial, extremely readable, contemporary potential bestseller. it will totally explain everything about being alive in the modern day.

hope you are looking forward to it ;) ;0 ;)))))))

it has loads of sex and drugs guys and murder and horrifying situations and also sexiness and famous people.

preorder it (not yet available or finished ;)))))) )

advert

content removed due to irritating unstoppable video

happy news

hello friends. i am really pleased to announce that my first novel, everything's fine, will be published this october by transmission print, a very exciting new(ish) uk publisher.

the novel should be available in all major bookshops in england, and on amazon as well. i believe there will be an e-book version also available.

much more information will be available over the next few months, including artwork, websites etc.

i am planning some exciting/hackneyed marketing gimmicks to make the build up to release totally unbearable/amazing

for more immediate information/enquiries please email me (socratesadams at gmail dot com).

thanks for your support everyone.

the book will retail at £100,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000

Piece of work at Metazen

Hi all,

A story of mine is up at metazen:

http://www.metazen.ca/?p=6628

Hope all y'all like it.

x o x o gossip girl

idea for a graphic novel

I am a supervillain called the stoat. I live in a canal riverbank in a nest that is decorated with empty food seasoning pouches, seasoning bottles, seasoning boxes and seasoning grinders. I have a large collection of glass seasoning bottles - they are my favourites.

I used to be just an average guy, going to work in an office.

Then I became the stoat.

I was hit by a ray of radiation that turned me into the stoat.

My super-power is being called the stoat.

I swim into canal barges and steal seasoning. I go home into my nest and eat the seasoning and then use the packets to decorate my home. My wife doesn't know anything about my new life. Glass seasoning bottles dangle from strings made from my own head hair and they tinkle politely in the breeze. Plastic seasoning pouches are pasted with my saliva to the earth walls of the nest. They keep it water proof.

I curl up every night after my day and sleep in the nest.

It is a bright summer's day. I can hear the succulent lapping of the canal outside my nest. I can hear little birds singing everywhere, talking about their mornings and the gossip from last night out on the piss.

I hear a person walk past, whistling.

A man's head appears, upside down, at the entrance to my nest. The man is holding tightly onto a postman's hat, in order to stop it from falling into the canal. He says,

'Stoat?'

I say,

'Yeah.'

He says,

'Got some post for you.'

He pokes his hand into my nest. It's full of letters - junk mail mostly.

I say thanks to him and then look through the morning post. I drink some water that I have dissolved pepper in while I think about the post. A couple of bills, something from reader's digest, letter from the bank.

I am so lonely.