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Si

"Colonic Irrigation for the Brain."

About Me

Check out the New Shiny Website:WWW.SIMONSPURRIER.CO.UK .

Aaaand, while I've got you, don't miss THE SPURSPHERE BLOG .

Okay... I'm a writer of novels, a writer of comics, and writer of anything else I can persuade someone to pay me for.It turns out - why did nobody tell me sooner? - that you really CAN earn a living doing stuff you've always done for fun anyway. This either means the world is a far lovelier place than I thought, or my hobbies are so freakin' weird they're everyone else's idea of Work. Either way; I sit on my arse, I hit keys on a keyboard, I sell the result. This is my idea of heaven.I recently signed a contract with Hodder Headline to write a pair of novels - fucked-up crime weirdness - which, after being born, is probably the best thing that ever happened to me. I still haven't come down from Toxic Smog Cloud 9.1 yet, and live in terror of Something Going Wrong At The Last Minute. But, by-and-large, in a non-complacent sort of way, I concede that Things Are Going Pretty Well For Me. Never thought I'd say that.Elsewhere I've written four work-for-hire novels, a whole heap of comics published via 2000AD, DC and Marvel, and am not nearly as geeky as my CV would suggest. I have, for example, been known to leave my computer for sometimes minutes at a time.I live in London, sleep in the gutter, and exist in a sub-normal metadimension of pure intolerance.

My Interests

The usual. Except, y'know... in a totally unique sort of way.

I'd like to meet:

Douglas Adams. Hendrix. Gandhi. Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. Bill Hicks. Oscar Wilde. Edvard Munch. Maynard James Keenan. The usual.

Music:

So... here's the thing. My list of bands really is very, very, VERY important and impressive and blah blah blah, but you'll just have to manipulate those neuronic zapperoids of yours and try to imagine it. This is because a) I feel like a wanker listing a load of names that nobody will bother to read, and b) it's so much more cool and mysterious not to specify. Y'see? Huh? Aren't you wishing you did the same? Aren't you sitting there imagining all the unique little-known european electro-skank-grind trios that I, only I, have heard of? Aren't you spaffing your gender-specific fluids over the unknown possibilities of what might form the creative backbone of my musical slekshun? Of course you are! And so I cause you pain! And so I pity you! Bwa-ha-ha! Having said all of that, just to burst my own bubble, my metaphorical list comprises a whole bunch of good, stuck-in-its-ways, deeply-unfashionable guitarish stuff that starts with the Smashing Pumpkins, rambles via Jimmy Eat World, meanders past King Crimson, and ends with Tool, which will one day embarrass my kids and earn me the contempt of my more eclectic peers. Ah, snobbery... When did music become the tribal warpaint by which we define ourselves anyway?

Movies:

In no particular order: Leon. Twelve Monkeys. Shaun of the Dead. Brazil. Fargo. Grosse Point Blank. Delicatessen. Dark Crystal. Dig!. Fight Club. Royal Tenenbaums. Once Upon a Time In the West. A Fistful of Dynamite. Donnie Darko. Anything with Sergio Leone, Luc Besson or Terry Gilliam on the front is A-okay with me.

Television:

Deadwood. Anything that isn't Deadwood is simply not worth watching. However: if the TV absolutely has to be on, make sure it's tuned to one of the following: Spaced, The Day Today, Brass Eye, Family Guy, The Mighty Boosh, Big Train or Futurama. Anything else is just evil soul-sucking megablandishment.

Books:

Scepticism Inc. by Bo Fowler. One of the silliest, most brilliantly original reads ever. What else? Oh, loads of stuff... Anything by Palahniuk, Vonnegut, Thompson.Moondust by Andrew Smith is an amazing book, as are the "Kovacs" novels by Richard Morgan and anything by Paul Auster.And Alan Moore, of course, of course, of course.

Heroes:

Bill Hicks. Billy Corgan. Gandhi. That Dog out of Homeward Bound. Notice that none of them are writers. If your heroes have already walked the path you're on, all you'll ever do is try and match their stride.

This profile was edited with qnun.com Editor

My Blog

CONTRACT - The final Front Cover

The finalised front cover of the Paperback has finally been unveiled.  Let me know what you think.   Personally, I couldn't be happier.  I love the rough-edged "knackered-old-pulp-nove...
Posted by Si on Mon, 16 Apr 2007 05:22:00 PST

Michael Point

Hey folks - how's it going? Just thought I'd let you all know about my fine friend, Mr Michael Point. He's a bit squiffy in the head and he has a really unusual job, but if you meet him in the street,...
Posted by Si on Tue, 10 Apr 2007 02:39:00 PST

Si Sil-Surf Spur

Howdy, y'all.  It's been a while.  In fact, it's been two whiles. This whole MySpace malarkey fell foul pretty quickly, don't you think?  Just another novelty that came along, made us a...
Posted by Si on Wed, 14 Feb 2007 04:29:00 PST

The Best Way To A Man's Heart...

...is through his stomach. (More specifically: in through the wall of the belly, cutting upwards through the solar plexus, and poking-about into the cardiac region without getting tangled in intercost...
Posted by Si on Mon, 13 Nov 2006 10:08:00 PST

Updarstardly

Just a quick update, kids, on the Status Of Stuff.  I can broadly describe the pain, horror and psychological trauma I've undergone over the past few weeks with a single terrifying word: "Rewrite...
Posted by Si on Tue, 10 Oct 2006 02:31:00 PST

IT. IS. DONE. Ahahahahaha!

Half an hour ago, I sent an email.  This email was addressed jointly to my agent and my editor.  In this email there was one attachment. In this attachment there was one Word .doc file. In ...
Posted by Si on Sun, 10 Sep 2006 12:55:00 PST

My Imaginary Friend.

So, something rather strange has been happening to me for the last week or two.  Begging the forgiveness of the non-graphic-novel crowd, I guess the easiest way to describe it would be: A Grant M...
Posted by Si on Mon, 21 Aug 2006 05:14:00 PST

San Diego Comic Con Photographs!

English Artist On The Beach: He Came. He Saw. He fell over, lost his glasses, and ran away. So.  The Players in this comedy of Bevvers: Mister Charlie Adlard, Mister Frazer Irving: jaunty-hat...
Posted by Si on Thu, 27 Jul 2006 11:15:00 PST

Sandy Ago!

Egad, cor blimey, gadzooks and quite possibly golly.  I'm more exhausted than a gigolo in a convent, my internal clock has gone all Quantum Flux Capacitor, and the red lobsterlike skin on my burg...
Posted by Si on Thu, 27 Jul 2006 09:22:00 PST

Shout it from the Chuffing Rooftops, my People...

Okay.  It's time to blab. I'd hoped that all the details would be finalised, the contracts signed, and the ink well-and-truly dried by now.  Alas, I'm an overly optimistic tit who should've ...
Posted by Si on Mon, 10 Jul 2006 07:19:00 PST