Even More Thraxas, and the Brixton BookJam

The third Thraxas ebook - Thraxas at the Races - has just been released. I appreciate this sounds rather similar to my last blog, wherein the second Thraxas ebook was released, but I can't help that. There are nine of these books and each one is getting its own blog; it's the least they deserve. I suppose I could spice things up for the public's benefit, perhaps with an interesting Thraxas-related tale, like for instance the story of the glamorous sex-shop assistant, the spanking paddle, and the missing consignment of adult goods - which did lead to me missing a Thraxas deadline - I have been considering relating this for some time - I will think about it - but the main thing is, Thraxas at the Races has now emerged into the world. 

Thraxas at the Races is now available on Kindle US, Kindle UK, Kobo, and at other locations very soon. There is more about this at Thraxas.com. Thraxas and the Ice Dragon, number nine in the series, is currently approaching the distribution chain, and will be available in around three weeks.

Last week I read for the second time at the Brixton BookJam, at the Hootenanny pub in Brixton. There were fifteen readers at the event, and a large audience. Everyone is meant to read for five minutes, a format that works well. I was on last, and probably rambled on for more than five minutes, reading brief pieces from The Good Fairies of New York, Lux the Poet, and Curse of the Wolf Girl. It was a very good literary event.

The Hootenanny used to be called the George Canning. That was a proper name for a pub. George Canning was a British statesman, and Prime Minister in 1827. There was even a statue of him outside. I deplore the fact that a pub which was once named after a British Prime Minister should now be called the Hootenanny. Not that this is the fault of Brixton BookJam: the name changed more than a decade ago.

There was a time when I was a very frequent visitor to the George Canning. In those days it wasn't actually all that nice a pub but, unusually, it was open till midnight. Twenty or more years ago, British licensing laws were so restrictive that virtually every bar closed at 11pm. So people used to come out of pubs in Brixton and hurry along to the George Canning, for some more drinks in the extra hour of drinking time. Many evenings I would meet practically everyone I knew in there, all having a late drink.

These drinking hours laws have all been relaxed now. Technically Britain no longer has laws about drinking hours. I think it's legal to sell alcohol in bars at any hour, though these opening hours can be regulated by the local authorities. Perhaps if I remained in the bar long enough, if would be called the George Canning again when I emerged. I'd be pleased at that.

So. A third Thraxas book, now available. Ninth book, not far away. After that the fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh and eight books will follow on shortly. But as I have been droning on here more than I intended, I will not now have time to tell the story of the glamorous sex-shop assistant and the missed Thraxas deadline, so will have to leave that for another time.