With regard to the possibility of putting out an updated copy of ‘Walking the Streets – the book, not the blog’ there’s a bit of a hiccup. I’ve had three ‘pooters since I went to press back in 2007 so the original files are sitting on salvageable hard drives tucked in my chaotic filing system.
However, the original blog can be resurrected zombielike to a shambling version of existence and made visible to the general dyslexic should enough people request its return. It would save me the problem of finding the original MSS and reformatting for eBook. Any takers?
We have house guests over this weekend, so have been pouring libations to Bacchus like Niagara in flood. Which is nice, as Mrs S and I have had some very happy news for a change. About bloody time too. So we’re celebrating, or should that be decerebrating. Whatever. At the moment of writing, Mrs S is introducing them to ‘Lord of the Rings’ on DVD.
“Must ask you Bill.” Said one of our guests, a friend Mrs S has known since she was five years old. “You wrote a book once. About your time working as a Traffic Warden.”
“Oh that old thing. I thought ‘Walking the Streets’ was dead and buried. What about it?” I replied. How did she know about that?
“Can I have a copy?” She asked.
“It’s out of print.” I told her. “Has been since 2009.” Then I had an idea. “Hang on.” I dived off and rootled around in our bookcase. Sure enough, there was the one proof copy I’d kept, although God knows why. Must ask him some day, he seems to have all the answers. I handed it over. “Take it. My gift.” I said.
“I’ll pay you for it.” She said.
“Nonsense. I won’t hear of it.” I demurred.
“Are you sure?”
“Can I share it with my friends?”
“Err…” I replied. Our family friends are very proper people and might not take kindly to the often rather fruity and non-PC language couched within the pages. “Are you sure?”
She read one of the excerpts and giggled like the schoolgirl she’d been nearly eighty years ago. I almost blushed.
“Ooh yes.” Said our old friend.
Well, when you’ve passed your eighth decade I suppose you’re allowed a little more latitude than most. Now I’m sitting in my office typing this post, glass of Argentinian Malbec in one hand, I recall that the offending text still resides on my hard drive. There’s also a few other anecdotes which weren’t included with the 2007 edition because they were too damn near the knuckle.
Which midwifed the thought; if I put out the text as an eBook at five bucks a pop on Amazons Kindle, Kobo, iBookstore or suchlike, would anyone be interested? Just a thought.