lost elation

Ridgwell

Category: writing and poetry

Ridgwell walks off into the sunset…

Lit Fiends of the world, now gather round and listen to my sad tale. I bet you’ve been wondering why there’s been so little activity on this site in recent months. I bet this anomaly has been playing on your mind day in and day out, keeping you awake at night, leading to recurring nightmares that there might never be another Ridgwell book ever again, and your lonely life in bedsitter land just won’t be worth living. Well fear not.  I’ve been busy writing, not surfing the web like countless other feeble-minded geeks. Man, they can’t stay away from the internet, they’re all saddled with a serious fucking monkey on their backs. In fact it’s bigger than a monkey, it’s a fucking gorilla, silverback an all. What happened to the days when people went out, you know like down the pub to have a chinwag with their mates whilst at the same time ogling the barmaids thrupenny bits? Anyway, I digress, for five years I’ve been blogging on this site and I think that most would agree that’s long enough for one man, even a man of my immense talent. That’s right, I’m calling it a day. Yes, there have been highs and lows, more highs than lows, but when the going gets tough the tough get the fuck out. The final straw that broke the weasel’s back was the revelation that readers of this site were now and again subject to capitalism’s most nauseous machination, that of the Advert. That’s right advertisements, marketing gimps polluting my site with their infantile sales gimmicks. Really, everyone involved in advertising must be retarded or something, with the lame duck ideas they bombard the unfortunate public with. Whatever it is you’ve got to sell I’m not interested.

Anyway, don’t believe me, watch the master in action.

I’ll let this site hang out in an obscure corner of the world wide web, floating on the information super highway like some weird Hubble bubble. Maybe I’ll even update the publications page once in a while. For more Ridgwell books are coming and coming soon, so don’t say you haven’t been warned and start saving those dollars, pounds, and pesos, and keep those sweaty fingers of yours hovering over those PayPal buttons.

2017 has been a quiet year for me publication wise, but 2018 promises to be a bumper year for Ridgwell books, and remember he who laughs last is the master. So now all that’s left to say is goodbye my fellow lit fiends, adios amigos, sayonara, adieu, so long, farewell, Toodle-pip. Yes, yes, you can watch as I walk off into the sunset, cold beer in hand, and a head full of dreams, wondering where the time goes and what will become of me. Sure we’ll meet again, it’s just I don’t know where and I don’t know when. Ah, weep not for me fellow literary comrades for I must continue on my lonely road, always seeking illuminations, always in search of the lost elation wherever he or she maybe. No. no, now now, there’s a good lit fiend, don’t cry, be a man or a woman, and hold your head up high….

Milk Race Fans – I know you’ll be weeping into your Kleenex, moved to tears because this is the last time you’ll get any Super 8mm action from old Ridgwell. Well. I’m afraid the time has come and remember nothing good lasts forever. But to compensate you for the void that now appears in your depraved and perverted little lives I’ve saved the best till last. Feast yours crazy screwball optics on this 4th Emergency Service Top Gun Room eyeball cruncher. Yes, here it is in all it’s legendary 8mm glory. The one and only, the pic everyone in the know talks about in hushed conspirator tones. Does it really exist? Of course if fucking does. Now una, dos, tres – Everybody’s got new clothes, makes me feel kinda old….

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And here’s a couple of pomes taken from my latest collection – Cosmic Gigantic Flywheel – publication of which is imminent, just like nuclear war between the States and North Korea is imminent. Hopefully it will remind you of the times we’re living in and no matter how bad things seems, hope is all you need to carry on. And remember do everything whilst young and don’t leave anything too late, for there’s nothing worse than too late!

notes from the underground – hand job anthology

Lit Fiends of the world take heed. A small press revolution is currently underway and even I – the Head Honcho lit fiend – am finding it hard to keep up with the strange and new publications flying through the letterbox of Ranchlette Ridgwell at an ever increasing rate of doormat thuds! So jump from beneath that spunk-stained and foundation marked duvet, light up a roach from the congested ashtray lying on your bedside table, grab the half empty can of fosters next to said ashtray, take a swig, and feast your mince pies on the wonderful Hand Job Zine Anthology published by Hi-Vis press and available to order here: Hi Vis Press

The construction of the book is worth the price alone and the press and the zine have come up with something totally unique and original! it has to be seen to appreciate the  craftsmanship involved.

And what of the writing, poetry and artwork contained within, I hear you mumble. Lit Fiend gold dust is what’s inside and the line up is a stellar one. But I’m not going to name names or give you a freebie glimpse. No, to achieve that mind-bending aim you’ll have to buy a copy. And move fast or forever feel left out in the literary cold like a dry lunch.

It’s all happening! With the anthology came a copy of the review zine Urban F – courtesy of the Queen of the Underground – Abbie Foxton. Inside it’s small press review city – with an excellent review of my road novel – Burrito Deluxe

And there’s more – more zines, Razur Cuts, Glove & Con to name but a few!

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The roll call of small press publishers reads like a who’s who of the global small press world.

Suitably impressed? I should think so you depraved bibliophiles. Now start pumping those paypal buttons like an amaze-balled sex maniac!

Tug Boat Champions. Blink and you’ll miss this Super 8mm stunner from the Fourth Emergency Service’s Top Gun room. Uno, dos, one, two, tres, quatro. Matty told Hatty about a thing she saw. Had two big horns and a wooly jaw. Wooly bully, wooly bully
Wooly bully, wooly bully, wooly bully…

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Fiend de la litt a continué

Continental lit fiends gather round. The December edition of Tra Ver Sees – Issue 82 is out now! And inside are 7 Ridgwell pomes. That’s right 7, so turn off the Jacques Brel, put down Madam Bovary, stub out the gauloise, and get thee to your nearest independent Parisian  or Brussels book shop to order a copy or better still, several. There are some giants of writing inside including Emily Dickinson and one of my fav writers, who is also strangely enough named after me – JR Helton! Check out the pics below for a peep!

UK Islander folk – do not fear if like many of your fellow country men and women you can’t read French. Get thee to the Eurostar for verily beside each French translation is the original in Anglais!

And before you ask, no I don’t know if you can purchase this literary gem online. You probably can but I don’t know how or why or even if I care. Anyway, what are you a recluse!

A special honourable mention must go to that young bastard – Poet Tom Buron – who did an excellent job translating my poems into French. Vive La France!

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Milk race rascals – stay put. For here it comes. Prepare to be spellbound. Una dos trios, – here we go round the mulberry bush…

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The Edinburgh Inch Continued…

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These little treasures will be available to view, pick up, even take away from the Scottish Design Exchange tomorrow onwards. And while you’re there make sure to to browse their esoteric bookstore, which contains some of the more harder to find underground publications, books you most certainly will not find in Waterstones or WH Smith. And also check out all the other goodies they have on offer.

Joseph Ridgwell

Edinburgh

Lit Fiend Mail Continued…

20160823_115214Long ago and far away… That’s how it seems anyway, my days, years, spent in Kings Cross, Sydney NSW. All those streets I walked not so long ago… Anyway, after a few weeks respite, Dave the Postie once again arrived at the door of Ranchlette Ridgwell grumbling all the way…

‘More books Ridgwell, always books.’

‘Better than bills.’

‘I could get a slipped disc.’

‘Six months off on full pay, you’ll be laughing.’

Strangely Dave didn’t laugh at that, no sense of humour, but he did hand over several packages. And yes, as you marinate in your lonely wood louse infested bedsits, you’ve guessed it my fellow bibliophiles – more lit fiend mail.

This time, the third and final instalment of my novel – The Cross – arrived courtesy of Martin Appleby’s Paper and Ink Magazine and obtainable by clicking on this link – The Cross Part 3. I know fiends have been waiting for this mother to arrive on their doormat with thee old baited breath. And will it let them down, will it fuck! Adorned with classic Cross photography by Abbie Foxton part 3 finds the walls closing in on the three main characters and as the end of the century approaches Kings Cross is about to witness events that will change the glittering half mile forever! Just remember that the Cross is a state of mind!!

Next up Miss Urchin Belle’s – The Sunlight Pilgrims – follow up to her debut smash – The Panopticon – word on the lit vine is that shooting of the Panopticon is due to start within weeks! See stop press for further details. The SP’s is a disaster catastrophe end of the world identity-crisis combo, with all of the Belle’s trademark literary stye and verve – dealing with both the ugly and the beautiful in this world. Some hack referred to the book as possibly belonging to a genre known as Cli-Fi! No disrespect to the hack, but Cli-Fi sounds too close to Clit-Fi. What is it with these numptys, always having to pigeon hole shit. Lord give me the strength! Anyway the book is a killer and available from all good book stores. Pick up a copy el pronto is my advice!

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And last but not least. PUSH 22! Now, it doesn’t seem so long ago that PUSH head honcho Joe England called me and told me that he was thinking about putting a literary magazine together. I told him to stop talking about it and just do it, and the rest as they say is history. PUSH 22 is about as good as it gets, with some excellent poetry and fiction and a fascinating interview withMatt Johnson of The The. To purchase a copy, and you’ll need to start pumping those paypal buttons like a fiend possessed as those mothers sell out faster than you can squish another woodlice – go here – PUSH 22

Just one more thing lit fiends, word on the vine is that I’ll be reading at an event in September. (See poster for details) And see the fake book page. Absinthe & Anarchy You all know I hate readings, the sound of my own voice truly can freak me at any given moment, but every now and then I put on my smoking jacket and hit the road…

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And of course, my dear little tug boat ultras. Would I ever forget you darling wankers. No way Jose. Check out this Super 8mm stunner from the Top Gun Room. One, two, three, when you go down to the woods today…

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Educating Ridgwell

hp libraryA few years back a fellow lit fiend asked why there were so few books inhabiting the dusty bookshelves of Ranchlette Ridgwell. The answer was simple. Public Libraries. And one unusual PL in particular. Hale End Public Library. A direct excerpt from the prequel to my road novel – Burrito Deluxe – Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man – provides a perfect explanation to this libroless mystery.

‘I settled into a routine of sitting in this big old velvet armchair and reading. I brought different books to the shop each week all loaned from my local public library. I’d discovered this magic library in East London that specialised in counter-culture and cult writing. I unearthed a good deal of major writers in that library that would have a lifetime influence on my writing, Charles Bukowski, Jack Kerouac, Herman Melville, Jack London, Knut Hamsun, Richard Brautigan, John Fante to name but a few. I also discovered some of the ancient philosophers such as Aristotle and Plato – the Ethics of Spinoza – The World as Will and Representation by Arthur Schopenhauer and a huge tome by Bertrand Russell – A History of Western Philosophy. The collected works of Oscar Wilde, William Burroughs and Ernest Hemingway were equally devoured, along with a bunch of French writers who interested me greatly at the time. Charles Baudelaire, Jean Paul Sartre, Rimbaud & the best of the lot – Celine. So with the hours spent reading in the shop I was soon on my way to becoming well read.

Who the enlightened librarian was, I’ll never know, but I just can’t envision a teenager walking into a library today and picking up a hardback copy of Kerouac’s Vision of Cody and even more unreal a hardback copy of Bukowski’s The Most Beautiful Woman in Town!

So here we come to why I’m writing this blog. Readers or followers of my work will know that I’m not politically motivated. Politicians to me are all the same, out for themselves and to protect the interests of Big Business. Recent events in Britain make it clear that they have no interest in the ordinary man or woman and never have done. And yet sometimes even someone as apolitical as myself has to make a stand. I did it once before to save a pub in central London – the Nell Gwyne, hidden just off the Strand. We were successful that time and I aim to be successful again.

Get this fellow fiends. The bean counters and culture destroyers at Waltham Forest Council are trying to shut down my magic library. The library that inspired me to become a writer, the library that probably saved my life! They want to build some shitty flats and a supermarket! Fuck them! Without that library there would be no Joseph Ridgwell the writer. Now, some might say that’s a good thing, whatever – the library has to be SAVED!

All you have to do is click on the link below and sign the petition. They need 5000 signatures and already have over 3000. SO DO IT AND  DO IT NOW AND AFTERWARDS FEEL SORT OF SAINTLY!

SAVE HALE END LIBRARY

Milk Race Fans. I, know, I know – I’ve neglected you wankers for a while, but check out this Super 8MM stunner from the Fourth Emergency Service’s Top Gun room. One, two, three – Bermuda triangle don’t go too near, don’t go too near!

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Welcome to Jamaica…

Ok, I know what ya saying. Ridgwell’s taking the piss with all this lit fiend shit.He’s seriously starting to get on our nerves. Why don’t he just shut the fuck up and stop bragging? Well, what can I say, it never rains, but it pours! But Dave my beleaguered and overworked postie saved the best for last. And this time he refused to even knock on my door, but instead left the literary package with my neighbour, Stella. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Ridgwell’s neighbour is named after his favourite beer? But it’s all true!

So here it is – all the way from the a tiny little rock in the Mediterranean – Jamaica. Feast your eyes on this beauty and get turned on by a book! All other small presses’s look away now, as you don’t want to suffer an acute attack of the green-eyed monster blues.

Now fiends, start pumping those paypal buttons. To order a copy of this limited edition literary number go here: pig ear press

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Jamaica – think Montego Bay – like rum served on a silver tray. Think Ronnie and yours truly having another mad adventure in an exotic location. Think also of Bobby Bloom and Glenn Gould who never went to Nice. Now check out this amazing video to get you in the Montego Bay mood! Obviously no expense was spared in the production of this film. Check out the funky dancers on the river bank. Far fucking out!

Milk Race Fans  – The Fourth Emergency Service is back in business. So you crazy screwballs zone your perverted optics on this super 8mm! One, two, three, strip!

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