Clowns are evil. Fact!

I can remember a fair bit about my early childhood. I remember the house we lived in, I remember the schools I went to and I can remember playing with my mates from dawn to dusk during the school holidays. I remember the empty, car-less streets and I remember the choking filth that the coke ovens spewed over our back yard, twenty-four hours a day. I vividly remember the day the street flooded and we had to be rescued by the fire brigade. I can remember Christmas’s birthdays and visits from my Grandparents when we actually got to use the front room. I also remember that I was terrified of clowns.

There was a series on TV back in 1961 called ‘The Mask of the Clown.’ It was on at tea time which meant that it was made for family viewing.

I can’t remember anything of the plot, who the characters were, who starred in it or which channel it was on, (there were only two in those days.) I do know it was filmed in glorious black and white and during the opening credits a grinning clown’s face flashed onto the screen. I have no idea what happened after that because I was behind the sofa, in bits for the next thirty minutes.

Ever since then I’ve studiously avoided clowns. I avoided their puny attempts to bribe me with a free balloon; I steadfastly refused to fall into the trap of laughing along with the unwary as they slapped custard pies into the faces of their stooges.

Even when I reached adulthood and worked out that these foul creations were made of nylon hair and makeup, I still refused to drop my guard; I knew there was something evil about them. Even the cartoon Krusty the Clown of The Simpsons freaked me out and I deliberately steered clear of MacDonald’s restaurants.

I was an adult when I read Stephen King’s most terrifying work; IT, and it scared the shit out of me. It was a tremendously scary book, but the ending was a huge disappointment. How could this malevolent, evil being have morphed into a giant spider? Surely it should have remained as a clown. I was seriously hoping to see the evil bastard get burned alive or sprayed with Agent Orange. It deserved a bad end.

Clowns are a creation of the Devil. From Grimaldi in the 17^th century to Charlie Cairoli in the 1960s, these evil men have been allowed to terrify our children. There was a serial killer clown in the states called Pogo (John Wayne Gacy) who killed 33 boys and young men. Also in the states, father and son clowns were both divorced by their wives after the clown characters had taken over their personalities.

My daughter inherited my clown allergy though I think my son is fine with them. My wife doesn’t particularly like them but she isn’t a fan either. For years I thought I was the only one that had a problem with clowns, but apparently there is a recognised phobia called Coulrophobia and people have suffered from it since the days of the court jester.

I’m not really sure what causes my unease. Maybe it’s that mad, painted grin or the sad teardrop. Maybe it’s just that you can’t work out what they’re about because of that unchanging expression. Maybe it’s just the makeup itself.

To be honest, I can’t see it being as simple as that. I’m not scared of human street statues and I actually wear a red nose for charity every other year. I’m not even put out by Great Aunt Mabel when her inch-thick foundation cracks under the strain at a family wedding.

I have a friend on Facebook called Kathy Weaver-Gore and she’s a fellow Coulrophobic. She’s a runner and covers hundreds of miles a year. I have a feeling she might even win a marathon if she discovered a fellow runner, dressed in a clown’s outfit, running behind her.

I was delighted to discover that Coulrophobia existed. It’s nice to know I’m not alone in my loathing of clowns and that there are millions of people who feel exactly the same. I only have one question. Where you were all when I was hiding behind that bloody sofa all those years ago?

© 2013, Trevor Belshaw Writer's Blog. All rights reserved. Trevor Belshaw 2010

Trevor

© 2013, Trevor Belshaw Writer's Blog. All rights reserved. Trevor Belshaw 2010

I sat down this morning to write a blog post detailing my thoughts on the publishing industry, particularly my place in it. As I began to write I had a strange feeling that I had read many of the points I was trying to make somewhere before. Worried about being accused of plagiarism, I sat back and thought hard. (Not an easy process for me these days.) I eventually realised that a very similar post had been written before… by me.

A quick trawl through my blog led me to a post titled ‘On a Whinge and a Prayer’ that was written on Aug 4th 2011. I read it with the growing realisation that, 21 months and five children’s book further on, eye problem aside, very little has changed.

Things have moved on in one area since the article was written. Children do now have access to Kindles, I pads and smartphones and that should mean more readers for self-published children’s authors. Should being the operative word. The real problem was always the fact that a male children’s author is always going to find it difficult, if not impossible to contact his target audience. I did have a bit of a boost in readership the year following the article because of increased tablet sales but things began to tail off again towards the end of 2012.I found this more than a little odd as I have always been told that the more books an author has on his list, the more readers the author will accrue.  I have five more books on my Amazon list now, than I had when the article was written, but it hasn’t led to a increase in the number of readers I am able to attract.

For the record I didn’t write the book mentioned in the original article in 2011. I didn’t write anything at all that year because I was so disillusioned. That disillusionment has returned with a vengeance.

As for the rest of the article, the vast majority of the argument still stands. Publishers and agents still only want to sign celebs, but now they are trying to move into the self-publishing area themselves. Once respected agencies are getting into bed with companies offering dodgy deals to desperate authors who cannot find a home for their books in the traditional publishing world. Publishers are offering ‘self-publishing services’ that offer little more than the much maligned vanity publishers have on offer. The industry is broken and no one seems to have any idea how to fix it.

Self-publishing is the only option for the vast majority of writers and it is a good option if the sole aim is to get a book published. The problem still lies with exposure. The new author will soon find themselves lost in a sea of promotional posts on Facebook and Twitter, desperately trying to find the single sale that will push their book below the 100.00 rank for a day or two. Nowadays, the new breed of digital publishers and even the (so called) traditional publishers leave all of the marketing to the author. It makes you wonder whether a book deal has any real value at all.

Anyway, here’s a link to the original article that saved me from having to write this one. http://www.trevorbelshaw.com/blog/?=613

© 2013, Trevor Belshaw Writer's Blog. All rights reserved. Trevor Belshaw 2010

I am delighted to announce the publication on Kindle of my latest book, Designer Shorts.

The book is a collection of short stories with a couple of humorous articles, excerpts from ongoing projects and a bonus poetry section at the back of the book which readers can ignore or indulge in, it isn’t compulsory.

The collection includes: The Zombie Poets, The Psychic, The Bath O Matic, Blind Date, Dinner for Two and The Job Club.

Many thanks to author David W Robinson for the loan of his knees for the front cover.

The book is priced at £1.53p a bargain by any standards.

Oh yeah, here’s the link.  https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00CCHIB8C

© 2013, Trevor Belshaw Writer's Blog. All rights reserved. Trevor Belshaw 2010

 This follows the publication of The Zombie Poets in last month’s fab Awesome mag.

© 2013, Trevor Belshaw Writer's Blog. All rights reserved. Trevor Belshaw 2010

© 2013, Trevor Belshaw Writer's Blog. All rights reserved. Trevor Belshaw 2010

© 2013, Trevor Belshaw Writer's Blog. All rights reserved. Trevor Belshaw 2010

A Grain of Truth

Under the boardwalk was playing and it did seem very apt
So I invited you under the pier with me and for once I didn’t get slapped.
The sky was filled with starlight; our passion flared then soared,
and though we heard our friends call out, their warnings were ignored.

A flashlight beam ripped through the night, a gruff voice yelled, ‘hey you.’
We leapt to our feet grabbing clothes as we ran, the policeman began to pursue.
We hid behind a beach hut, giggling as we dressed.
Then we wandered out onto the beach, hoping to avoid arrest.

We passed the same policeman; he gave us one long glare,
he can’t have helped but notice, you had seaweed in your hair.
We reached the pub and sat outside, increasingly aware,
of private parts becoming sore, that sand gets everywhere.

© 2013, Trevor Belshaw Writer's Blog. All rights reserved. Trevor Belshaw 2010

When I look at your face
My heart starts to race
My passion fires off like a nuke
When I think of your lips
My tummy does flips
I love you so much I could puke

© 2013, Trevor Belshaw Writer's Blog. All rights reserved. Trevor Belshaw 2010

Hope you enjoy the mush.

Blind Date  http://cafelitcreativecafe.blogspot.co.uk/2012/02/blind-date.html

Dinner for Two  http://cafelitcreativecafe.blogspot.co.uk/2011/05/dinner-for-two.html

© 2013, Trevor Belshaw Writer's Blog. All rights reserved. Trevor Belshaw 2010