The Honeymoon is Over, Friends…

Every once in a while a volume of poetry, prose, eulogies to lost love, work, death, junk, get drunk sing weep lie cheat love, the pissed-off cars from hell, comes along that renews one’s faith in Mankind. Songs of Desperation and Revenge by Jose Arroyo, is such a book. Published in a limited edition of 50 copies, (which have already sold out) by Hickathrift Press, this important volume showcases Arroyo’s instinctive innate talent as a poet and wordsmith. And crucially this poet has lived, not just one life, but two or three of the fuckers, and it shows in the power and candour of the poetry. I once wrote an article about the need for writers to have lived a little before putting the word down, and Arroyo’s art is a perfect example of this axiom… All those melt’s rolling off the conveyor belt of the creative writing factories, sure they can write, but they can’t produce anything honest and credible. All they produce are leaden and lubriciously written fairy tales and candy floss. Authenticity is what’s missing, and if you ain’t authentic, you might as well take a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut! Try it, it’s not easy.

I was fortunate enough to obtain a copy of this rare book, which now takes pride of place in my Ranchlette Ridgwell bookshelves. I’ve also got one of Arroyo’s super triple cool tee-shirts, for not only is he a poet, he’s something of a renaissance man, junk art, woodcuts, linocuts, being just a few of the man’s many talents. He’s also a highly rated Hatter!

The only gripe I’ve got here, is that only 50 copies of the FAB book were produced, which is a criminally small amount, but I’m sure if you get in touch with the author direct, and start talking telephone numbers, you might be able to get hold of a precious signed copy.

https://hickathriftpress.bigcartel.com/product/songs-of-desperation-and-revenge-2010-2015-by-jose-arroyo

Milk Race Fanatics, hold on to whatever you can hold on to, for here’s another Super 8mm eyeball twister from my Top Gun room. Una dos tres quatro…

Goodbye, I’ll be leavin’
I see no sense in this cryin’ and grievin’
We’ll both live a lot longer if you live without me…

Indo Rides Again…

My novella – Indonesia – was published by Kilmog Press in 2011. Only 55 copies were made. Hardbound, handmade and letter-pressed, it was or is a beautiful book, with a lovely woodcut by Alan Morrison adorning the cover.  Years passed, and one by one my personal stash of Indo’s began to disappear, sold to the highest bidders, as I led the happy life of the penniless artist. I was down to my last 3 copies. Then the pandemic, then lock down, then a long distance call from my publisher Kilmog Press. Whilst clearing out his studio during lock down, Dean Havard had somehow unearthed enough material to make up 10 copies of Indonesia.

The package arrived today.

Any intrepid lit fiend interested in maxing their grimy credit cards by buying a signed copy of this rare and beautiful book then get in touch with the author, me, via the contacts page of this site. Then we can start talking telephone numbers…..

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Milk Race Fans. Stay sane. I know, I know, nothing this year, not a single screwball Super 8mm pic, nothing, de nada. And nothing during lock down! Yeah, I hear ya, I’m starving you bunch of perverted five knuckle shuffle pro gamers. Ok, settle down, settle down. Here it is,  another sublime eyeball cruncher from my Super 8mm Top Gun Room. One, two three…I’d rather be a hammer than a nail, yes I would if I only could, I surely would….

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Beat Scene 95

My essay – Trip Trap – appears in the latest edition of Beat Scene – 95. (see below)

Beat Scene 95 is now available and is being mailed out to subscribers over the next ten days through late November. Here’s a look at the cover featuring the beautiful artwork of Jonathan Collins who recently displayed his Beat inspired art at the Lowell Celebrates Kerouac in his hometown. Anyone interested in pre-ordering a copy get in touch at kevbeatscene@gmail.com – copies are £8 in the UK, 15 Euros in Europe and $20 USA outside Europe

 

Burrito Deluxe – Endless Summer – Wolf Star – Trip Trap & other lit shit…

Summer’s over, the days are drawing in, the nights are cooler….Fuck that, think endless summer amigos, travelling the world from one hemisphere to another, always following the sun. Well, that’s what the hero of my cult novel is currently undertaking as we speak, some surfers tried the idea in the 60’s, but they failed. Maybe Ronnie will go one better, who knows. So what of Burrito Deluxe? The book has just been published as an ebook by – Endeavour Media  under their new cult novel and rock and roll memoirs imprint. Go here to purchase a copy – Burrito Deluxe . And if you want something hard – go here – Leamington Books

To celebrate this unusual event, a reading will be held at Sophie Parkins East End nightclub – vout -o-reenees in November of this year. Dates will be posted on this site in the next few weeks. So what else is happening? Plenty lit fiends. Wolf Star my 7th collection – is to be published by – Poems For All. Poems-For-All, best known as a publisher of pointlessly small books, goes LARGE! So what the fuck happened to my 6th collection – Cosmic Gigantic Flywheel – I hear some screwball discerning reader ask?? Fuck knows, it was meant be published two years ago, but that, for reasons unknown, never happened. So it’s now officially a Lost Collection. Maybe it’ll come out after I’m dead, I’ll guess we’ll never know….

Mondo Ridgwell!

Anything else oh Great One? I hear some lonely speccy, spotty, hipster, with sleep-encrusted eyes, and a drool hanging from one corner of a skanky looking mouth, wallowing in some cock-roach infested shit pit in Skegness.

Keep it coming Ridgwell, said the jester to the clown… My first essay will appear in the latest issue of the legendary Beat Scene. It’ll appear as a two page spread in Beat Scene 94, which is devoted entirely to the King of the Beats – Jack Kerouac – to celebrate 50 years of his untimely passing. The essay focuses on Trip Trap, Kerouac’s road trip taken with Lew Welch and Albert Saijo way back in 1959.

And there’s more fuckers, more, more, more, far more, far, far more…..Actually there isn’t, that’s it. I was lying, telling a porkie pie, something I rarely ever do….

Milk Race Fanatics. Stay perverted. You’ve waited weeks, months, and your lonely vigil has not be in vain. For verily, feast your craven optics on this Super 8mm amazeball wonderstuff blow-up! Una dos tres – Anna, you come and ask me girl, to set you free girl….

Lost Elation, Brussels, Radio Panik, Ibiza and much much more…

Okay, Lit Fiends, gather round and listen in. Let me tell you all about my recent trip to the European mainland, to celebrate the publication of my latest book of poesy! I flew there on Friday morning, ate some fries with mayonnaise, a meatball the size of a cannonball, and downed five hundred Belgium beers.

This was how I was greeted at the airpot VIP style.

From the airport I was chauffeur driven to Brussels where I appeared on Belgium radio – click link below to listen to the interview – and then read at three different locations. I also stayed in a quirky loft apartment that had a glass floor, which after several Belgium beers, was a little unnerving! I have to say everyone I met was incredibly friendly and made me me feel like Brussels was home from home. Towards the end I even got used to the fact that Belgium men kiss each other when they meet, on the one cheek only. Anything else would be an extravagance! I also got to see the Grand Place and the little pissing boy. And also discovered there is a little pissing girl!

Many thanks must go to Tom Buron, who translated my poems, and Vincent and Cel for publishing them. Salut gentlemen and until June!

Now check out the beautiful book and then buy a copy!

 

You can purchase this beautiful book of poems by contacting Vincent at Angle Mort Editions direct langlemort.edition@gmail.com

The French Connection, Brussels Literary Mafia, & Señor Ridgwell

Radio Panik

And there’s more. My short-story – Ibiza – has just been published by East London Press. Check the pics, but this is one beautiful book guaranteed to enhance any Lit Fiends bookshelf. Set in the White island’s hedonistic haven of Sant Antoni, it features the heroes of my road novel Burrito Deluxe as they struggle to survive the glamorous perils of an early 1990’s Balearic summer.  It’s got booze, beaches, a babe, police brutality, narcotics, nightclubs, and a gut-wrenching tale of two ill-fated toothbrushes. All I may add is do not read while you are eating or drinking. To get your sordid mitts on a copy hit the link beneath the pic and start pumping those paypal buttons. (actually don’t bother, an act of futility – see below.)

*I’ve just received news from the publisher that Ibiza sold out in less than 48hrs, which must be some kind of small press record. Thanks to everyone who brought a copy, and to those sad and woebegone hipsters who missed out, like the old bard once said – the early bird do indeed cacheth de worm!

East London Press

Milk Race Avids – feast your debauched optics on this Super 8mm brain cruncher. One two, one two, oh to live on Sugar Mountain. With the barkers and the colored balloons
You can’t be twenty on Sugar Mountain
Though you’re thinking that you’re leaving there too soon

Good Things Come in Small Packages…

So they say… but in the case of my latest collection of poems – The Beach Poems – it’s undoubtably true! Published by New York’s Bottle of Smoke Press, there are only 65 copies of this craft item, of which 45 copies are in wrappers and 10 copies are quarter-bound in tan Morocco over boards. Check out the photos to see for yourself, but until you hold a copy in your hands you won’t really know how lovely they are. Go to the Bottle of Smoke Press website to order a copy.

https://www.bospress.net

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Tug Boat fanatics. I know I’ve let you sordid fuckers down in the last few months, but just for old times sake, here’s another Super 8mm eyeball strainer from my Top Gun Room. Una, Dos, Tres, Layla, you’ve got me on my knees, Layla, I’m begging, darling please, Layla, darling won’t you ease my worried mind…

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!

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…

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!

 

 

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

 

 

Lit Fiend Mail Continued…

Long 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!

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…

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…

Educating Ridgwell

A 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!