The Foundations of the Twenty-First Century

About a year and a half ago I wrote a novella on the possibly overworked subject of what it might be like to ride the London Underground if the Nazis had won the war. Historical allegiances, national renewal and the importance of taking responsibility for one's actions are among its other themes; but in mitigation I hope and believe that it is about as warm and romantic as it is patriotic and life-affirming. I hesitated a good deal about publishing it on its own, since I nurse an uncharitable suspicion that my personal bias in favour of short books - notably Ramsey Campbell's Needing Ghosts, J G Ballard's Running Wild, H G Wells' The Croquet Player and several by Lucius Shepard - may not be widely shared. My commercial sense and my vanity have been locked in deadly combat these past several months; being the larger by a fair order of magnitude, vanity has now won, and the result can be seen, partially perused and, if the mood takes you, bought here. Reviews, publicity and shameless flattery are all welcome, especially if you've actually read the whole thing; offers of interviews and hard cash will be given profound and favourable consideration.