I think you created an emotional/psychological pretext for the episode to begin with (autumn, death etc) so that it was underpinned with a underlying sense of melancholic escapism. That’s what nailed it for me.
Nice one, it's very interesting to hear what people make of it - it's not my job to tell the reader what it's about, so nice to hear, really appreciated.
'His mums' Every time I read that, I burst out laughing. Something I missed in my youth, was shroom picking [and eating]. There's no way I'd do anything like that now, I'd end up pulling my own nose off or something...
Another fun tale of British youth, fantastic, Sir!
Cheers John. It was quite the thing to first ever do mushrooms (one of the first drugs I did after alcohol, tippex, cannabis - whoa! That list was longer than I thought it would be) but to then realise you could just go get them out of the ground - especially after the effects they produced - was insane!
Nice one Greggo. It's the catcher in the Rye of mushrooms, your guts do not like them and they must be expunged, and when tripping, it's not the best expunging to witness.
Tbh I got there before the punchline because I used to be the “standby painter” on Taggart for a while. In a tangential vain, the crew were filming a long shot from the pier as our box van sailed off on the ferry, the three of us were fleein with Charlie blow and a lot of bevy. The van had “Aid for Romania” emblazoned all over it, of course some Romanians, probably the only ones in Scotland, came up to thank us for our kind efforts. I would have preferred the polis as excepting there heartfelt gratitude was , painful. Obviously when they left we cracked up which lasted for weeks, until the wrap party.
I really enjoyed this one, light and airy which we all need now and again. It took me back to a place and time which is, in my opinion, the objective of story telling. I love the details, the pink connies being a case in point.
Nice one, Andy. As I alluded to in another reply above, it's not really my job to tell the reader what the story is about (I mean, obviously it's about mushrooms and a load of acting police) but I mean what's it's for - why it's worth reading etc - and that you've had a similar experience is a case in point, it gave you a very different relationship to events than someone else. great stuff. Thanks for reading and leaving a comment.
Agreed , which was kind of my point although probably poorly articulated, writing for general consumption is a very public medium but it takes you to a very private place, my place. Also as had been noted earlier the juxtaposition of the death of the growing season and personal loss with young bloods blundering about in search of something to occupy their “lives” was poignant. Shroom time always left me with a faint melancholia, thanks for your writing, thoughtful and provoking. A
It's interesting you say about the mushroom melancholia. I'd often have friends from London come to visit for the weekend around the season, and want to take some mushrooms on the Friday night. I'd always be reluctant since they'd all fuck off back to London and I'd be left in Devon on a dark and cold, post-trip Sunday. I can feel it now, quite dark days in many ways - alongside the bright side of course. You always have to pay the piper.
Definitely agree about the hippie fucktards at the gatherings in Totnes tiresome trustafarians fake as fuck and boring you constantly with tales of false bravado and mystic bollocks
I went picking a few times on Dartmoor with varying degrees of success went to a few party’s with girlfriends in and around Totnes who always said be yourself and when I was didn’t understand why the crusties didn’t take to me, made me laugh, these bores offering me DMT and various other South America sacred herbs me gobbling them up and baffling the fuck out of them in conversation then listening to the sounds and dancing so ferociously that I was avoided like the plague/Covid!
Happy days.
Thanks for the words appreciated, stay well and keep storytelling you are wonderful at it.
Nice one, Rob. Yes, it was much the same for me - in both my stints in Totnes. The girls liked me though (which didn't help with the hippies) but hey, fuck them. They are intellectually lazy and yet full of energy spreading it about.
Lovely to read! my favorite lines were "Stuart was also there. (🤣) Nondescript, few of his own opinions" and "Stuart’s sartorial aesthetic was similarly sourced, but without an eye for style, the look suffered." 🤣🤣🤣 beautiful alliteration
Yes, this seems to be the theme of a lot of the comments. I have a few in the back catalog where almost (almost) nothing happens and there's something very engaging about them. The novel has a lot of that going on, or a lot of that not going on, if you now what I mean.
Agreed, Whatever Happened To Hunting has always felt like a very human story, even though it's very unhuman at the same time, which I assume is its charm. But sometimes there's something in a positive tale, especially when your (my) portfolio is largely unpleasant and riddled with failure. Nice one, Adam.
Great story Chris! Made me chuckle. Having lived in both Devon and London you paint the picture well. Loved the days of taking magic shrooms and being outside in nature as a teenager. 🍄
Nice one Loulou - thanks for reading. Living in Totnes was great fun when I was an art student, and going up the moors was bliss - but that particular day got the heart pounding for a few minutes.
Nice one, Andrew. It's a bit like the Crack Gnome Story (maybe you've seen the video) in that so many external influences had to conspire to get the mise-en-scene, it's almost unbelievable even when it's unfolding. I guess that's where the smiles come from a decade (or three!) later, the sheer unlikeliness of it all.
Nice one for reading, but this isn't the first time Boney M have featured in a trip. A few of us went into a boozer in Dartford when we were about sixteen, all tripping balls, and I thought I was listening to Ozric Tentacles, even commenting how odd it was that they'd be playing that. And then realised it was 'Daddy Cool' by Boney M. Well, I say 'realised', I was told, to much amusement.
Visceral, poignant and heart warming all at once. Nice work Chris!
Thank you for reading, Max - and that's a good summary, wasn't really sure what this one was about, but there's something there.
I think you created an emotional/psychological pretext for the episode to begin with (autumn, death etc) so that it was underpinned with a underlying sense of melancholic escapism. That’s what nailed it for me.
Nice one, it's very interesting to hear what people make of it - it's not my job to tell the reader what it's about, so nice to hear, really appreciated.
'His mums' Every time I read that, I burst out laughing. Something I missed in my youth, was shroom picking [and eating]. There's no way I'd do anything like that now, I'd end up pulling my own nose off or something...
Another fun tale of British youth, fantastic, Sir!
Cheers John. It was quite the thing to first ever do mushrooms (one of the first drugs I did after alcohol, tippex, cannabis - whoa! That list was longer than I thought it would be) but to then realise you could just go get them out of the ground - especially after the effects they produced - was insane!
Wonderful tale of youthful, degenerate lo-jinx. The bum fungus imagery will sadly live with me for a while.
Nice one Greggo. It's the catcher in the Rye of mushrooms, your guts do not like them and they must be expunged, and when tripping, it's not the best expunging to witness.
Haha you do make me laugh Greggo.
He's a funny lad - should do a channel. Him and Ruski I think have got it in them.
Tbh I got there before the punchline because I used to be the “standby painter” on Taggart for a while. In a tangential vain, the crew were filming a long shot from the pier as our box van sailed off on the ferry, the three of us were fleein with Charlie blow and a lot of bevy. The van had “Aid for Romania” emblazoned all over it, of course some Romanians, probably the only ones in Scotland, came up to thank us for our kind efforts. I would have preferred the polis as excepting there heartfelt gratitude was , painful. Obviously when they left we cracked up which lasted for weeks, until the wrap party.
I really enjoyed this one, light and airy which we all need now and again. It took me back to a place and time which is, in my opinion, the objective of story telling. I love the details, the pink connies being a case in point.
Good work young man. AndyMac.
Nice one, Andy. As I alluded to in another reply above, it's not really my job to tell the reader what the story is about (I mean, obviously it's about mushrooms and a load of acting police) but I mean what's it's for - why it's worth reading etc - and that you've had a similar experience is a case in point, it gave you a very different relationship to events than someone else. great stuff. Thanks for reading and leaving a comment.
Agreed , which was kind of my point although probably poorly articulated, writing for general consumption is a very public medium but it takes you to a very private place, my place. Also as had been noted earlier the juxtaposition of the death of the growing season and personal loss with young bloods blundering about in search of something to occupy their “lives” was poignant. Shroom time always left me with a faint melancholia, thanks for your writing, thoughtful and provoking. A
It's interesting you say about the mushroom melancholia. I'd often have friends from London come to visit for the weekend around the season, and want to take some mushrooms on the Friday night. I'd always be reluctant since they'd all fuck off back to London and I'd be left in Devon on a dark and cold, post-trip Sunday. I can feel it now, quite dark days in many ways - alongside the bright side of course. You always have to pay the piper.
That was a nice…I was there feeling the trippy doom as consequences entered you psychedelic being.
Yes, it went from bliss to 'oh balls' in the space of a second, which isn't great when you're tripping - or any time, in fairness. Cheers, Mike.
Enjoyed it as always
Definitely agree about the hippie fucktards at the gatherings in Totnes tiresome trustafarians fake as fuck and boring you constantly with tales of false bravado and mystic bollocks
I went picking a few times on Dartmoor with varying degrees of success went to a few party’s with girlfriends in and around Totnes who always said be yourself and when I was didn’t understand why the crusties didn’t take to me, made me laugh, these bores offering me DMT and various other South America sacred herbs me gobbling them up and baffling the fuck out of them in conversation then listening to the sounds and dancing so ferociously that I was avoided like the plague/Covid!
Happy days.
Thanks for the words appreciated, stay well and keep storytelling you are wonderful at it.
Nice one, Rob. Yes, it was much the same for me - in both my stints in Totnes. The girls liked me though (which didn't help with the hippies) but hey, fuck them. They are intellectually lazy and yet full of energy spreading it about.
Lovely to read! my favorite lines were "Stuart was also there. (🤣) Nondescript, few of his own opinions" and "Stuart’s sartorial aesthetic was similarly sourced, but without an eye for style, the look suffered." 🤣🤣🤣 beautiful alliteration
Haha, I was also quite happy with 'the look suffered' - nice one Aramas, appreciated.
Laaarvly
Cheers, Ciarán. A little tale of a trip to Dartmoor has its place.
Another good read Chris. I like how this was was light-hearted.
Yes, this seems to be the theme of a lot of the comments. I have a few in the back catalog where almost (almost) nothing happens and there's something very engaging about them. The novel has a lot of that going on, or a lot of that not going on, if you now what I mean.
Not bad actually, was always going to be hard to top your previous one. I'll comment cause I know it helps the rankings in substuck. Keep it up !
Agreed, Whatever Happened To Hunting has always felt like a very human story, even though it's very unhuman at the same time, which I assume is its charm. But sometimes there's something in a positive tale, especially when your (my) portfolio is largely unpleasant and riddled with failure. Nice one, Adam.
Nice one Mr Dangerfield, gave me a good laugh.
Thank you mate - I'll take that.
Could only happen to you,😁
Well, and Stuart and Jim, but hard to care about them. I hope I made that point clear. Cheers, Liz.
Great story Chris! Made me chuckle. Having lived in both Devon and London you paint the picture well. Loved the days of taking magic shrooms and being outside in nature as a teenager. 🍄
Nice one Loulou - thanks for reading. Living in Totnes was great fun when I was an art student, and going up the moors was bliss - but that particular day got the heart pounding for a few minutes.
We've all had those days that make you smile a decade later, funny how life sometimes laughs at your expense,
Nice one, Andrew. It's a bit like the Crack Gnome Story (maybe you've seen the video) in that so many external influences had to conspire to get the mise-en-scene, it's almost unbelievable even when it's unfolding. I guess that's where the smiles come from a decade (or three!) later, the sheer unlikeliness of it all.
Wherever you may stray, Boney M will be there for you.
Nice one for reading, but this isn't the first time Boney M have featured in a trip. A few of us went into a boozer in Dartford when we were about sixteen, all tripping balls, and I thought I was listening to Ozric Tentacles, even commenting how odd it was that they'd be playing that. And then realised it was 'Daddy Cool' by Boney M. Well, I say 'realised', I was told, to much amusement.
Camping after August is not as nice. The chill begins to creep into the night air.
I have no idea what that means in this context. But thanks for reading.
You were camping in this story, right?
lol, no. Maybe a bit camp here and there?