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  • Format: ePub

  • Geräte: eReader
  • mit Kopierschutz
  • eBook Hilfe
  • Größe: 0.11MB
Produktdetails
  • Verlag: Distributed via Smashwords
  • Seitenzahl: 134
  • Erscheinungstermin: 13. Mai 2011
  • Englisch
  • ISBN-13: 9780956529398
  • Artikelnr.: 45440964

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Autorenporträt
'Hello, My name is James F. Park. It's not really it's just plain James Park. I don't have a middle name. I just stuck the F. in there to confuse you, only joking, well about the confusing part anyway. Sorry, sometimes my wicked Glaswegian sense of humour gets the better of me. If you really, really want to find out what the F. stands for then why not treat yourself to my wee book 'Aye, that'll be choclit', where all will be revealed (along with lots of other things). I was born in Glasgow in 1948. The Gallowgate to be exact, which is almost the city centre, well, nearly the city centre and that makes me an extra special wee person, that's what my mammy used to say and mammy's are never wrong, are they? I am very happily married to Ann, also a Glaswegian, or as I affectionately call her 'Babes' and we now live in dizzy heights of Kilmarnock, Ayrshire. If I remember anything else I'll add it on later, oh and I'm also a S.A.D wee person (see 'Aye, that'll be choclit' for further details). Oops, it's me again, the quick witted one with the weird and wonderful Glaswegian sense of humour, so I guess it must be later. Babes said I had to write some even more useless info about myself as she thinks the above is far too short. So here goes. As I've already mentioned I was born in Glasgow what seems like a very, very long time ago. A time before automatic washing machines, microwave ovens, colour television and motor cars with electronic ignition. It was a time when there were steam trains with their unique musky smell and tram cars, which still fascinate me, that trundled along Argyll St. in my fair city that took me to visit myGranny as a star struck six year old. For me the day the trams stopped running was an unforgivable event but I suppose that's progress. In 1954, on a bitterly cold and snowy December morning with Dad John, a Glaswegian, Mum Mary, a Belfast lass (is it any wonder I'm a mixed up cookie) an older brother and sister we headed East almost in wagon train fashion to an unknown place called Garthamlock where I started my education in earnest. Having successfully manoeuvred my way through primary school it was onwards and upwards to the Big school which I somehow managed to get through without getting into much bother or getting expelled (joking again, I was NEVER in trouble with the teachers, honest). I left school at sixteen and entered the even dizzier and scarier heights of the workplace in 1964. I didn't leave so much as ran as fast as I could out the bloody building as I hated it with a vengeance. Looking back now I wish I hadn't because the workplace was and still is a very eventful place. Although I ran out of school I still managed to get the sort of education that meant I can read, write and spell. I can also count without using my fingers and toes (and other bits) and the use of a calculator. The Calculator. What an absolute horrible invention (that's just my opinion). It has taught the younger generation how not to use their brain when it comes to figuring out the answer to the simplest of equations. Go on, I dare you, ask someone who was educated in the last twenty years or so and see if they can tell you what 9 x 8 = without the help of said calculator, or do you need it? He who invented it should have been put in a sling and fired off to some far and distant planet never to be heard of again. But I digress, why did I start to write at such a late stage in life? Simply because I had nothing else to do, that's why. One day I thought, I think I'll write a wee book after all it can't be that hard, can it? Hmm, and so having mentioned this to some of my present and past workmates who all said, 'Can I be in your book, please Jimbo, can I be in your book,' I was more or less forced and I suppose encouraged into actually doing it. The result being 'Aye, That'll be Choclit.' It's a collection, and I must admit, of funny Glaswegian type stories from 1941 through to 2007 and is definately one for adults only. However those so called workmates who were not mentioned weren't too chuffed and so I promised them they would be in the next book and so transpired 'Jazzy and Tia's first adventure' and is dedicated to my two lovely granddaughters Jasmine and Tia. In this story Jazzy is confined to hospital having had an asthma attack and dreams of animals that have magical powers and so their adventures begin. Almost all of the main characters in this one are loosely based on my work colleagues and so far none of them have threatened actual bodily harm so that in itself must be a good thing. Well isn't it? Next wee book up is 'Tammy the Tartan Haggis' which is a colouring in and story book with, ah you've guessed, a tartan theme, for younger children just learning to read and who love to colour in. This one is dedicated to my very dear friends The Galbraith family of Ayr, Scotland. 'The Destiny Diamond' is a short children's story about two intergalactic anti-terrorist agents called Patrick Plook and Wilfred Wart who are sent back in time to retrieve the diamond which was stolen by three aliens, the yellow terabytes. My thanks to Shellers for her input on this one. My next wee effort is, 'AdamAnts colouring in and puzzle book for all ages,' and as the title suggests is a colouring in book with puzzles, jokes and easy arithmetical equations for everyone. The Enchanted Forest of Aethelwine starts off with footballer Jimmy playing in a boys club cup final at Broadway the home of The Mighty Belfast Celtic but why was he transported back in time and will he return to fulfil his dream? James and The Falcon budgie is the first in a series of James and.... children's books and is one of the first bedtime stories I made up for my son James and has been followed by James and The Porridgedragon and James and The Caterpillar Princess The Winchester Dolphins and The Mystery of Winchester Hall is a good old fashioned mystery for young ladies but why would anyone want to steal an iPod and who is the mysterious stranger who has followed Matilda all the way from America to Scotland.