Un-Tall Tales now in Kindle

It was in paperback, and now by popular demand of the author himself, Un-Tall Tales is in Kindle too. 

Un-Tall Tales is Chris Page’s collection of short fiction, flash fiction, poetry, and odds and ends, all in one slim volume with lots of white space, short paragraphs, and easy-to-read short sentences. 

And to mark this event, you can grab a copy for free. 

From January 18th, through the 22nd you can download a Kindle copy from the Kindle site, without paying the whopping £1.99 Un-Tall Tales would normally set you back. 

What’s in Un-Tall Tales for you?

The Freebie 

Is Billy Freeb the world’s most innovative musician or is he the world’s laziest man? Is he a genius or is he a plonker? Billy’s 15 minutes are upon him — will he survive?

Cats Die 

Middle age and disillusion are creeping up on our hero and he plans to take it lying down. His adulterous plan could bring him release or ruin. Or, of course, nothing in particular.


These poems, as all good poems should, explore underpants, teeth, chickens, and tombstones.

Dumb Novel

A lot of dumb novels are big hits, but in this story the hero becomes the biggest of hits for dumbest novel he didn’t write.


Houdini did it, so why not our hero? Well, he’s not Houdini, is he. On a whim, he has himself chained, locked in a box and dropped through a hole drilled in the Arctic ice cap. Will he survive? 


Extracts from a weblog by an author on the go. Talking cats, sausages, new uses for bananas, nuclear explosions in the office, sex on trains, more sausages — is it real or is it made up? You decide.

Un-Tall Tales is available, as are all Chris Page’s other stories, from the author’s Amazon page

And Un-Tall Tales (note to SEO manager: am I repeating the title enough times?) has a site of sorts of its own, where you can read extracts and see other bits and bobs.

The winter is long and cold, and late January is officially the most depressing time of the year, so this is a great opportunity to curl up in your basket with a good read without messing with the post holiday budget. 

Note: Un-Tall Tales includes The Freebie, which was published by the London Magazine in 2002, and in 2019 published by Psipook Press as a stand-alone ebook.

Another note: On this page I have linked to my Amazon UK author site, but for best downloading results, go to your regular regional Kindle store (ie, where you usually download your Kindle books).

Final note: Many people have understandable reservations about using Amazon. If you prefer, please contact me directly and I’ll send an ePub file.

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Let the healing begin? No, let’s not

Let the healing begin, Boris Johnson says.

No, let the healing not begin.

What healing can there be? This election was won on a campaign of outright lies, misinformation, and smears. It was the dirtiest campaign in generations. It is a template of things to come. The Tories made full use their funds to hijack opponents’ keywords on social media and run a huge online misinformation campaign that included the use of trolls. Lies were the language of their campaign.

The consequences of the election result and the way it was obtained are dire — for the economy, for our security, for the most vulnerable people, for minorities.

Let’s be clear: this is not a normal Conservative party, this is the most vicious rightwing gang of thugs that the country has ever seen. 

This Conservative win will have real consequences. This is not like seeing your favourite team lose the FA cup final. People are going to die. Already in the last 10 years upwards of 130,000 people have died due to Tory austerity politics. Now the party feels it has a mandate, it is going to lay into public services with a machete. 

An independent fact-checking group found 88 per cent of Tory election claims to be misleading.

Eighty-eight per cent. Against zero percent of Labour campaign claims. That’s 88 to nothing. Quite a scoreline.

The Conservatives made a wealth of promises about the NHS, about police numbers, about the number of presents Santa will bring you this year. Most of the promises were misleading and fake: the number of police officers (no actual increase), the numbers of new hospitals (there won’t be any), and, less than a week after the election, they are already backtracking on other promises such those about new nurses. Essentially, the promises were not true the moment they were made.

After 10 years of ideologically-driven austerity should anyone believe the Tories? Ten years? Forty years — since Margaret Thatcher became PM in 1979 they have pursued their agenda to dismantle the country and sell it to their friends. 

The Conservatives are free-market fundamentalists. Everything must be commodified and sold to you at a profit for private companies. This includes not just the infrastructure of the country, but your health and wellbeing too. This is in the DNA of the party. It’s why they exist. Do we really think they are now going to change over night, or do we think they made a lot of good noises to compete with the other parties and get your vote?

The Tories were helped to their win by billionaire press barons whose interests are aligned with the Tories’ backers. Those billionaire press barons own most of the commercial media in the UK. They produced an almost constant stream of propaganda for the Conservatives and against the other parties. Another fact check project found that Jeremy Corbyn was the most smeared political leader ever in Britain.

While Labour was smeared with the manufactured issue of anti-semitism, people elected a prime minister with a very public record of racism and homophobia. Since the general election less than a week ago, reports of racist and homophobic abuse have been on the rise. This continues a trend that started with the 2016 referendum. Latent hostility has been sanctioned and given free rein by Johnson and his fellow travellers like Farage. 

Many people think the press is in the Tories’ pocket. The opposite is true. The Conservative party is the representative on earth of powerful money interests. These interested parties comprise not only the media billionaires, but corporations, hedge funds, staggeringly wealthy individuals with an ideological axe to grind.

Once out of the EU, there will be a bonfire of the safeguards that cushion us from the worst excesses of the free market. Human rights, workers rights, health and safety, safeguards for the environment. These are all seen as inconveniences to these nameless, faceless corporates. This is what Brexit was all about for the Tories’ sponsors. This is why they have paid for it. And for this Tory win to facilitate it. 

Many of these interested parties are not even British. They are American and Russian libertarians enforcing a free market ideology for their own convenience. How is this taking back control?

A number of hedge funds have bet against Britain’s economy after Brexit — one reason they were so eager to fund the campaign.

This is not conspiracy theory: all this information is in the public domain. On top of that, Johnson’s own sister spilled the beans in an interview.

This is buying politics for your own advantage. Is this democracy?

The rich will get richer while ordinary people get poorer, and the already poor suffer more.

Already, Johnson’s government is planning on changing electoral law to help them stay in power indefinitely.

When Boris Johnson says let the healing begin, what he actually means, is ‘Let the submission begin!’

So why do we have to heal? Why make life easy for this gang of thugs?

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Get yourself Sanctioned — free!

You can now get a free Kindle edition of Chris Page’s novel Sanctioned — for a limited time, natch.

Britain is sinking under the weight of scroungers, skivers, shirkers, refugees, migrants, libtards, experts, and snowflakes. The economy is hobbled and the very fabric of society is in need of a good scrubbing. Gideon Smith, an agent of the Department of Aspiration, has been tasked with doing something about it — and he reckons the whole place needs to be Sanctioned.

— The blurb

And it features a character who has a nose like a bellend.

The offer runs from Thursday, December 5th, to Tuesday the 10th (ending about 5pm London time). This download offer, is like the upcoming general election on the 12th, an early Christmas present for all us good little boys and girls who have worked so hard through the year, or put up with eating nothing because of Tory austerity.

If you prefer to take a peek rather than committing to an entire FREE download, you can sneak a read here

Sanctioned, incidentally, is my best selling novel. I don’t mean that it’s a best seller in New York Times or TLS terms, I mean more people have read Sanctioned than any other of my novels. And to the best of my knowledge, no one has been arrested or fallen into a coma while reading it. 

In advance, many thanks to everyone has taken the time to read any of my stories. And many, many thanks to those good people who have put a rating or review on Amazon or Goodreads. 

End note: I have linked to my main Amazon author page, but you may want to download from your preferred regional Kindle store. If you prefer not to use Amazon for this download or for getting any of my other books, please send me a message, and we’ll get you what you want by alternative means. 

Best to all, and an early Merry Crimbo!

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Free Weed!

Download the Kindle version of Chris Page’s novel Weed free this week.

Through November 1st.

If you don’t want to touch Amazon, message me and I’ll send you an ePub file.

Weed is my first novel and is available in both paperback and ebook formats. You can read a chunk of the novel on this site (see menu bar) but, really, it’s a free download, so why bother?

Here’s the blurb on the back of the book:

In his professional and personal life Robert D Weed is deemed totally useless — or, perhaps, he is the smart one and everyone around him is daft.

Robert is a human weed who is tugged and pulled by a world that wants to uproot him but which discovers that he cannot be so easily tossed on the compost.

So, that’s your free Weed, or rather free Weed to read. Through November 1st.

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Free downloads of The Freebie

(See what I did there?)

Musical wannabe Billy Freeb’s fifteen minutes of fame are upon him. Fame, alcohol, sex, drugs, and lots of curry await. Will he survive?

Download a Kindle version of this short story from Amazon or contact the author directly for your personally delivered ePub file.

Through Friday, October 18th.

(The Freebie is included in the collection of short fiction Un-Tall Tales, so if you’ve read that you won’t want this.)

I’m learning how to do the ebook giveaway thing on Amazon and starting with this one story. Soon I’ll be doing more of this. Watch this space!

By the way, do you like the cover? I’m a bit proud of it.

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Another Perfect Day in Fucking Paradise — new novel out now

Ben seems to be the only living person on the planet and the dead are really getting on his nerves.

Perfect Day cover only x1000

But then he discovers he may not be alone.

Can Ben find love among the dead or will death find him first?

Another Perfect Day in Fucking Paradise is the fifth novel (or first novella) from Chris Page and is a blend of high farce and low horror.

You can order this book and all the others from Amazon. To save money on shipping you may want to order from your regional site, but here’s the link to Chris Page’s Amazon author page to get you going.

A free Kindle ebook version comes with each paperback of Another Perfect Day in Fucking Paradise.

Statement: In distributing my work through Amazon, I do not endorse or approve the company’s working conditions, tax strategies, or monopolistic practices. I hope that Amazon will listen to its customers and users on these matters in order to create a genuinely good brand experience. 

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Brexit will not be Photoshopped

brexit bull not moved_3678roast chicken corbyn johnsonIMG_3679

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An Etonian wank fest: those Cummings and goings on

Of course, what we all want now is for Dominic Cummings to be caught in flagrante in a sex-death act so bizarre and depraved that it’s details, immediately leaked to the world, will smother the Tory cabinet in reflected slime and bring the whole lot down, chased out of the House in tar and fetish underpants.

Of course, that’s not going to happen.

Scummings has the means of keeping his peccadilloes on the leash — a black leather, leash studded with the teeth of missing children. He will have only the rarest silk restraints and bespoke butt plugs, protected with superior safe words crafted by masters of the dark arts in Saville Row. He has the means to copy his personality and project it deep into the most crepuscular depths of the dark web to please himself in immaculate privacy with homunculi and pigs, in which the screams of the shaved hamsters will resonate chillingly, but from which they will never escape. 

Safer still, he will have access to the most secure bunker for his kind ever devised, the editorial offices of the Daily Telegraph, where he can indulge himself in front of the whole newsdesk in the sure knowledge that no word will be breathed other than in the hacks’ own fevered masturbatory fantasies, which, as of today, might include rubber chickens.

Buy shares in Kleenex now. You heard it here first. 

No, Cummings is still with us, his secrets more or less locked down. What we have to console ourselves with is the spectacle of Johnson and his cabal floundering in their plan for national Dominic-ation.

It would be folly to believe that Johnson’s three defeats in two days this week and the loss of his parliamentary majority, and the lack of filibuster by his men in the Lords, spell the end for his campaign. It is however, hard to shake the feeling that we are witnessing the Machiavellian merchants of slime finding themselves on the back foot after their call for a general election was rejected. 

Has the opposition ever rejected an election before? Well, it’s happened to Johnson and Cummings.

But we can be sure they have a Scumming plan, and it sure ain’t over until the fat bastard has left the House. 

While plan A may have been stalled by hiccups, there will be plans B through Z, with a few contingencies besides, that involve poisoning the whole population. 

Schemes and plans are what Cummings is, and without dissembling and duplicity, he simply wouldn’t be. 

We would do well to remember that the main plank of the Johnson-Cummings strategy (or should I say the Cummings-Cummings strategy) is the trashing of order, of procedure, of his own party, of parliament, of democracy, of sense and reason itself, and perhaps of his own partner’s living room, to get his way; to force an election on a population made so paranoid, disoriented, and panicked, that they would vote for Conan the Barbarian if they thought he could slay the scary beasts — but what they are more likely to get is Onan the Old Etonian with his dripping handkerchief. 


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Arron Banks lost in a sea of shit

arron banks sea of shit 02 x1500

In memoriam: Baron Wanks, who is drowning in a sea of his own shit.

This week, Brexit bankroller Arron Banks wished a 16-year-old girl, environmental campaigner Greta Thunberg dead.

No comment is necessary.

But I’m going to comment anyway.

This is what Brexit, UKIP, the Brexit Party, the Conservatives and all their supporters are about. Death threats and actual murder (Jo Cox).

That’s it.

No, that’s not it.

There is an intimate relationship between Brexit and the climate crisis. A certain demographic in the world of money wants the destruction of all regulations on labour, human rights, the environment and so on, to enable unfettered money making. They are consciously creating a world in which corporates can shovel up even more dosh from us. They see the EU and environmental campaigns as inconveniences and obstructions to their ends.

This is not a new project: it has been in progress for decades.

This excellent article by George Monbiot is a great place to find out more.

Re-posted from PageFolio.

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On the further incompletions of the current story

Damn! Bugger! And blast!

I recently crowed in this space that I was into the endgame with the current story as I launched myself into the task of polishing to make it presentable to the world. 

Well, in the task of polishing I think I uncovered a lot of crud. 

skull with yucky things inside large
I was tweaking sentences and punctuation when I realised two things. One, the voice is horrible. Second, I’m hitting the reader over the head with the themes as if they were frying pans.

The alert reader (Hi!) will see immediately that these are two huge things to be wrong with a story, going right to the tone and heart of the thing. 

Oops, as they say. 

My first reaction was to pretend I hadn’t noticed, hoping that the reader will not notice for real. But, of course, the reader will notice. Unlike the writer, the reader is not privy to what the story was supposed to be like, or what the writer hoped it would be like, or what the writer desperately pretended was otherwise. The reader has only the words on the page to go on, and if they aren’t up to snuff, then there is disappointment. 

And embarrassment for me. 

So, back to it. A wall-to-wall rewrite. 

At this point I ought to be discouraged. Will this bloody thing never get off my hard drive? Perhaps I ought to follow the masters like Tolstoy or Gogol and petulantly burn my manuscripts, put on a hair shirt, and join a doomsday cult. 

But no, I feel oddly excited. The pulse quickens because I know what I need to do to correct the story, I think I know how to do it, and best of all, if I pull off the changes, the story will be all the better for it. 

It’s an odd feeling, and, I suspect, a mad one: Who gets an adrenalin buzz from something so pedestrian and nerdy as sitting in a chair and making shit up? Well, pedestrian nerds that’s who. 

Talking of readers, I am also sure that it was the interest people showed in the story following my last update, and the nice things that people have lately said about earlier stories that stimulated me to take a harder, more critical look at this effort from the point of view of a reader. It was a bit like some of you were looking over my shoulder, making me self-conscious to the point I paid a bit more attention to what I was doing. 

So thank you for that!

Meanwhile, excuse me — I think I may be about to hyperventilate. Lucky me!

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