Panda Johnson / The Monuments of Panda Johnson: Book One
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Beschreibung
Silence fell across hall much in the same way that a drunk collapses from his bar stool, Bambii kicked Dang (for which no one could blame her really), they’d all been sidetracked by what Dang said.
Reading is a like supporting a football team, some times you get an absolute corker, sometimes its nil-nil and worse than watching paint dry.
Ask yourself a question, take a piece of blank A4 paper and a pencil and place them, side by side, on the table in front of you. Now, what do you see?
If you can see a complex, unyielding cornucopia of life, of death, and the emotions these things bring with them then you my friend, will never want for another friend again.
It is said that there is a thin line between madness and genius, I for one am utterly insane. And, much prefer life on this side of the line. Who wants to be a genius? That would only mean tweed jackets, very bad moustaches and way too many beards, and that’s just the ladies.
Why would I want to be stuck in some cold winters retreat with thirty other geniuses debating the existence of anti-matter, or life on other planets, when I can answer all these questions with a simple pencil and paper. It might not be correct; it might be so completely ludicrous that the thirty winter bound geniuses would spend the next twenty years debating just how wrong I am. By which time their moustaches will be so indeterminably long that they will conjoined to form a mass of hair so large it will affect the balance of the earth.
Now who’s the insane one?
Forward
How does one write a forward, it’s such an unusual thing to do.
Silence fell across hall much in the same way that a drunk collapses from his bar stool, Bambii kicked Dang (for which no one could blame her really), they’d all been sidetracked by what Dang had said.
If you’ve read that and you’re still reading, great, if you read it laughed, even better.
I thought it might be a good idea to pick a snippet from the book. Well, that’s what they call them in the trade… Pick would be the wrong word, more of an, ask your dog to stick her paw on the keyboard and see what pops up.
Thankfully, she didn’t write the rest.
Autor*in
Panda Johnson
Panda Johnson was born in the East End of London during the 1960’s, then moved to Cheshunt, Herts, after his late father was made redundant in the early 1970’s. His early summers were spent at his Grandmother’s house, while his parents worked, and even though he hated school he nevertheless developed a love of storytelling and jokes from a young age. This is something which he later combined and put to good use when he started to write in earnest.
Although his first attempt at writing a book ended in ‘900 pages of hand-written durge’ and was ultimately thrown in the bin, Panda persevered and now has two books available – The Monuments of Panda Johnson and Panda Johnson and the Death of the Gods, both of which could accurately be described as comedy science fiction.
Themen in »Panda Johnson / The Monuments of Panda Johnson: Book One«
Timetravel scifi sciencefiction comedy humor humour fantasy steampunk hardcover