And to celebrate it, there's not one, but TWO launch parties, complete with KLiC beer brewed especially for us by the Steamin' Billy brewery. How cool is that?
Today is the day the first commercial space flight leaves Earth for the Moon. Around Leicester, people are glued to TVs and phone screens in pubs and bars. Whilst a single adventure unravels overhead, 10 smaller tales play out amongst the beer and crisps of the local watering holes. The first short story collection by KLiC, a creative company producing new work in theatre, film, music, and the written word. The 10 stories by 10 different writers were all based on the above brief along with the rule that they all needed to be set in pubs in Leicestershire.
The fun starts TONIGHT at 7pm in The Western in Leicester. There will be readings and extracts from the stories written by Katie Sone, Maxinne Linnell, David Parkin, Honor Flaherty and Nathan Human.
Then you can have even MORE fun next week - the second launch party is on Thursday 18th September in The Parcel Yard, right next door to Leicester train station. Readings and extracts will be given this time from the stories of Mahsuda Snaith, Avnesh Pandya, Diani Gatenby Davies, Steve Carroll and yours truly.
But what if you can't get to the parties? Well, the book's available from the KLiC website - click the PayPal button and a digital copy will be emailed to you for the HUGE price of £1. Yep - £1. That's just 10p a story! And if you prefer your stories on paper, there's a paperback available via lulu for £6 plus p&p.
You won't believe some of the things that happen down the pub...here's a taster of what happens in my local. Enjoy.
An extract from 'Moon Rocks'.
Propped up at one end of the bar was a large plush gorilla, the kind you might win at the fair and had to lug round with you all night ’til you went home. This particular stuffed animal had its head firmly wedged inside one of those old-fashioned glass goldfish bowls.
“Bloody hell! Not you too?” Pete shook his head.
“Of course! First commercial flight to the moon?” The barman, all youth and stubble and trendy spacer ear-ring, patted the gorilla’s improvised helmet. “We’d be mad not to ride on the back of that. We’ve brewed something special to celebrate – Space Monkey. Fancy trying it?”
He wasn’t kidding either. Nestled among the pumps labelled up with Mild Mannered Monkey, BG Sips, Gorilla Stout and Ape Ale, was one with a picture of a monkey in a space suit.
“What kind of beer-?”
“No, ta. Pint of the apple and pear Charnwood Cider, please.” Pete glanced over his shoulder while he waited. The blokes were making a move by the look of things. If the women went too, he’d have the place virtually to himself…
“So you’re not keen on this moon malarkey then?” the barman asked as pint and pennies exchanged ownership. “Don’t fancy going up yourself?”
“You what? Do I look like I’ve got quarter of a million quid to burn?” He was sharper in his reply than he’d meant to be, but it still rankled. When had a pint of something really decent gone up to three quid fifty? He’d already had to filch a tenner from the kid’s piggybank to top up what was left in his wallet, ’cos since the factory let him go… His eyes flicked to the food board. Pork and Stilton pie. Sounded good, but best not. He’d got enough for a couple more pints or a pint and a pie. And he could probably do without the pie. He’d put on a few pounds since he stopped working. Actually, that was probably the one good thing about a space trip; at least you’d be weightless for a bit. Wonder whether lack of gravity worked on the weight of worry too?
Pete shivered. He wished the gorilla would stop staring at him.