Today Andy Lennon is my guest and he has had quite an adventure preventing him from writing. What that is? You’ll just have to read my interview with him to find that out for yourself.
Hi Andy, thanks for taking the time to answer a few of my questions.
Is there any food or beverage that is a constant factor in either your books or life?
Bacon, I can’t imagine a life without it, fictional or not.
What is your favourite dish and can you give me the recipe?
Does bacon count for this one too? That is my favorite! The recipe is pig, mostly anyway.
Would you say that after your misfortunes you’ve become more careful with your body or do you still love those ‘dangerous’ sports?
No, I’m pretty much a boring old man now at the age of 29. I like the idea of getting into some of those sports again, but sadly I just can’t handle it anymore. I enjoy comfort now, staying in warm and reading a book or even just watching those sports on TV haha.
How do you think finance differs from writing, apart from the obvious, numbers and letters.
It’s weird, you would think that writing would be easier because you have unlimited freedom, you are not restricted in anyway to your work you can make it as you want. However, this freedom can sometimes create a difficult task. It give you almost too much choice which can make it difficult to think. In finance, you have guidelines and regulations that you have to follow. It almost guides you through. Having said that, the biggest difference is, writing fun, finance boring.
Hahaha, no doubt there’s some accountant on the world who disagrees with you.
What is the title of the book you would like to talk about, and can you give us a small taster of it?
A Life to Waste
Did you have difficulty coming up with the title?
No it just seemed to make sense, originally the title was “Just keep running” but along the way that seemed to lose its meaning and “A Life To Waste” became more fitting.
Below you can read a small piece of the book, but if you want more after that you’ll have to go get a copy at:
Three days of Dave’s “night duty” had passed. He kept to his schedule as planned, sleeping during the day so he had the energy to stay awake through the night. He had heard and seen nothing so far, each night he sat in silence in a barely lit room. The only light was the lamp he placed on the table next to him so he could see his book. Outside was dark, there had been no movement apart from the odd car driving past or one of the teenagers that lived somewhere down the street stumbling past at early hours in the morning.
Dave started to wonder if he was wasting his time, was this thing really going to come back to the same spot three times? Would he be that cocky, or stupid? It didn’t matter, he had to keep hoping, this thing had to come back, it was the only way that he would be able to find his mum.
After a toilet break Dave returned to his table and opened up his book, he was a couple of hundred pages into it now, he had been struggling a little bit with not being used to reading, but overall he was following the plot quite well and was enjoying it. It was another really quiet night, so quiet that it started to make Dave feel on edge. There is something eerie about complete silence, noise is comforting, Dave would be a lot happier if he lived on a busier road where there was a constant flow of traffic, the silence was starting to get to him. He heard a noise.
“What was that?” He said to himself, then sat almost as if he were waiting for an answer.
“there it is again!”
The sound of scurrying footsteps came from one of the other rooms.
“oh shit someone’s in the house” Dave whispered to himself.
“Who’s there?” He shouted, trying to hide the fear in his voice.
He heard the scurrying again, it sounded like children running around in one of the bedrooms.
“I said who’s there?” This time with more authority.
The running stopped. Dave walked very slowly across the room, he reached around the door and turned the light on to the next room before entering. There was no one there. He checked his bedroom, his mum’s bedroom, the kitchen, the bathroom. There was no one anywhere to be seen. Unless they were hiding? He stood for a second taking deep breaths, trying to build up the courage to go and look. He checked his mum’s room first, checking the cupboards, behind the door and under the bed, all the usual “hide and seek” places he could think of. Then he checked the bathroom, besides behind the shower curtain there was nowhere to hide in there. Again nothing. That left his bedroom, he checked his cupboard, there was nothing there. That only left one place, under his bed. He heard giggling.
“Oh shit!” he shouted, louder than he meant to.
“Ok you bastard get out from there before I kick your ass!”
He heard the giggling again. Dave felt his stomach tighten, he felt like he was going to puke, he was terrified. Who the hell was this hiding under his bed, it sounded like a child, he didn’t have to be scared of a child did he? Where did the child come from? Why were they here? What if it wasn’t a child, what if it was the thing that took his mum?
“OK that’s it!” He shouted
He grabbed the side of the bed and in one swift motion lifted it on one side and threw it upwards. It rolled over and landed upside down a couple of feet next to him.
“What the…..but, I heard.”
There was no one there, he must have been hearing things. All this sitting alone in the dark, in silence all night must have been playing with his mind.
“It sounded so real” he thought to himself.
Dave walked back to his chair, sighed and sat back down with his book.
There was the giggling again, followed by hurried footsteps running from room to room.
“Right that’s it!”
Dave jumped up and sprinted to his room, this time filled with more courage. He was tired of being messed with.
“Come on out you bastard! Come out!”
He ran round the house from room to room screaming like a mad man, he was throwing things around, tearing open cupboard doors so hard that the wood splintered. There was still no one there, he sprinted from room to room again, making sure there was no way anyone could sneak past while he was checking another room. Eventually he stopped, leaning over to catch his breath.
“shit Dave you’ve lost your mind.” He said to himself puffing for air.
Another try, he sat down and opened his book. He started to question whether his choice of book was a good idea. What it really his best plan to sit alone in the dark all night in complete silence and read a horror story? So what, it was just a story, it wasn’t like a killer clown was going to jump out and get him, he hoped. No don’t be stupid, whoever it was he waited for would just be a human being. Perhaps a sick deranged human being but still, there would be no killer clowns chasing him around the house.
He opened his page and started to read again. He heard something else.
“Oh you have got to be kidding me, what now?”
This wasn’t coming from inside the house, this sounded like it was coming from outside. It was music.
“what the hell is that?” he whispered.
The music was faint, it was very slow, it sounded like a jack in the box being turned slowly. Like whoever was turning it was trying to build tension, waiting for the precise moment to make the scary clown jump out and terrify whoever was watching it. Just one beat at a time, it was a painfully slow tune. He recognised it though, each beat followed by what seemed to be an eternity before the next one came. It was Teddy Bears Picnic, he said the words to himself slowly, in time with the tune being played.
It sent shivers down his spine, this was the creepiest thing he’d ever heard. It was definitely coming from outside, what the hell was that?
He peeked out the window.
Is there anything you don’t like about being an author?
It is just a hobby to me, I do it purely for fun, so no there is nothing I dislike.
What do you do marketing wise and what do you think generates the most attention to your books?
I use facebook, twitter and goodreads. I am not sure, but I think Twitter seems to generate the most attention. If you’re fortunate enough to have people retweet you then your audience can grow to a very high level.
Would you be able to come up with a credible excuse why you haven’t written a whole day? Remember, I have to believe it!
Well, I started writing, but then my dog ate it. I was so worried that I rushed him to the vets. Vet said everything was fine and it would pass through. When leaving the vets I spotted an old lady trying to cross the road, I walked over to help her when a van pulled along side and dragged me into the van. They screamed and shouted at me for a few minutes until they realized they had taken the wrong man. They returned, threw me out of the van and took the old lady. Who then appeared to actually be a man in drag! The whole ordeal was far too much for me so I walked to the nearest pub and drank until I could come up with a ridiculous story as to why I didn’t write all day.
Okay, now that we have the mandatory questions out of the way, shoot your mouth off. Tell me whatever you want the blab about. But please no cat’s, dogs, or children. Make me laugh, or cry, or even envious. Tell me something none has ever heard before from you. hehehe, love those little dirty secrets, real or make believe. 🙂
Sorry, I got nothing, I’m in work and did this as fast as I could, now my boss has come and given me a load of work regarding a vat inspection that is taking place in half an hour!
Perhaps another day I can go on a rant about work and how I wish I could sell a million books so I can quit my day job!
Ha! I’ll be waiting for that rant then. 🙂 For now thank you and good luck with your sales. I hope one day soon you’ll be able to give up the numbers to focus full time on words.