Posts Tagged ‘manchester writers’

Win US edition of The Bird Room by Chris Killen, signed, and probably with drawings

A signed and scribbled in copy of the (hard to come by in the UK) US edition of the (brilliant) novel, The Bird Room, by Chris Killen is available as a prize to a person who comments on this blog by 10th March.

To enter, comment anywhere on this blog, from the publication of this post until midnight on 10th March. You can comment on any of the posts on the blog – book discussions are open indefinitely so you could comment on one of them; ALTERNATIVELY you could comment on this post and let us know what you think of Yet-to-be-books, where you think it could go in the future, the format, any additional things we could do, etc. You get one entry in the draw per comment posted; my rats will pick a winner soon after the 10th, Mr Killen will sign and draw in the book for you and I’ll put it in the post. People outside the UK can enter…the prize may take a little longer to reach you.

You CAN post multiple comments – the point is to encourage discussion – but be warned that any comments split into multiples for the sake of it will be disregarded by the rats. They take a similarly dim view of comments like ‘I would like to win the book’ and ‘please provide biscuits’. Genuine contributions to discussion only, ta. You don’t need to register with WordPress or anything to comment, but to win the book you’ll need to comment in a way that links your comment to your email address, e.g. a link to your blogger identity.

So…what do you think?


Dark Acres or A Shadow Portrait – Emma Stott

Our next book is ‘Dark Acres Or A Shadow Portrait’ by Emma Stott. You can join the discussion from 8pm UK time by commenting on this post.

Some guidelines here.

Here are the first 100 words or so of Emma’s novel:

This is the true nature of home – it is the place of Peace; the Shelter, not only from all injury, but from all terror, doubt and…

Chapter One.


Rope upon rope of fire wound tight about the pines, and flames hung like over-ripe leaves: again autumn. The burning spread into the sky and cast the clouds with a feverish light. Sometimes Loch Morend’s mists seemed to deepen to smoke and tease her as to whether fire really had fallen. At last, they had kept their slinking promise.

Pinewood was used to make telegraph poles, she had read, and here a brighter message they sent.

See you at 8

Fluids, Sian Cummins

Our first book discussion will start at 8pm UK time today. From that time, you’ll be able to join the discussion by commenting on this post. See you then!

Some guidelines here.

We’ll be discussing ‘Fluids’ by Sian Cummins. Here are the first 100 or so words of the novel:

On the first morning of the new Millennium, John, 30, named after Lennon, woke with a killer hangover, a dead arm and a dead girlfriend. She was lying across his arm, pinning it to the bed, her fidgeting over for good. John twisted his head to gaze into her sticky half-closed eyes and saw the light. Not flu, not just the tetchiness that comes with the time of year, but an appliance leaking colourless fumes. They’d pushed a leaflet under every door in the block about the dangers of carbon monoxide and it was only now, in the few seconds between sleep and the sight of her dilated pupils, that the message came home.