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News 2003

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A Second Apology from Alec Abernathy – upon the Cancellation of His First Novel (27 July 2003)

Dear friends and readers, the day when my Aardvark Attack was to be published is now long, long gone, and the publisher has now been in contact, and not in the usual friendly pints of beer over a steak dinner way, but rather in the letter informing of the termination of contract sense. So to all those who were waiting for my novel to appear, I apologise. I simply did not have the heart to finish the story of my father. During my long, long life, I had told the tales of my father’s wartime exploits to many, many people. Often they scoffed. They simply did not believe that a giant aardvark had ever ravished England and Scotland, much less that it had originated at the South Pole. Until now I always dismissed their doubts as the cobwebs and spiders of unaired minds, but as I pressed ahead with my writing, their doubts assailed me, and I began to feel that if my father’s tales were not true, if they were just nonsense stories concocted to entertain a small child, I would be doing him a great disservice, and holding him up to public ridicule. Thus, apprehension dragged at my determination, as another author once wrote, and I ultimately found myself reading the daily newspaper when I should have been writing. In these circumstances, I fully understand the publisher’s decision, though he has assured me that should I now approach him with a completed manuscript, he will be eager to publish. Farewell, then, readers. I apologise for the worlds you have lost today... – Alec Abernathy

He Will Be Missed, Said I, and the World Said Nay! (2 May 2003)

With this email, I put you all on notice of my intention to quit Silver Age Books immediately. I resign my post as marketing manager, and renege upon the contract I signed regarding the writing of Alpha One. Please do not read too much into this decision. The high-level pressures of the publishing world have taken their toll upon my already fragile constitution, and where once I tired easily, now there never comes a time when I am not tired. When I approach the keyboard, my fingers twitch. When I approach the SAB building, my knees seem to absent themselves from my legs. And when I think of disappointing SWT, who put so much faith in me, giving this tired old poet a second chance to redeem himself, I can only weep. My good wishes go on with all of you, don’t hold back in your future endeavours, but perhaps at the Christmas party, remember a single toast to your friend, Howard Phillips. – Howard Phillips

A Toast (1 February 2003)

I took a glass of whiskey out into the garden tonight, and toasted the stars, and the people trying to get us there, and I cried. – SWT