The first scarecrow to attend Withdrop school didn't last long - they kicked the stuffing out of him at morning break. That Joe Smith and his gang were bad bastards. 

Next day, three young scarecrows went to the school. Their parents stood at the edge of the playground, keeping an eye on things. Well, the Smith gang wouldn't dare. Before long, scarecrows made up half the kids at the school and the classrooms were growing crowded. 

More scarecrows arrived in the village each day. The villagers had always feared being swamped by new arrivals. Scarecrows lined the road, they gathered in the churchyard, one even stood in the duck pond. 

The empty crosses appeared around the time the farmers were ploughing for the winter crops. The villagers knew what it meant, that this was an invitation for them to join the scarecrows. Mr and Mrs Smith moved to Birmingham, as did the families of some others in their son’s gang. The fields were tilled and no birds came to eat the seeds. Those who stayed in Withdrop now locked their doors at night; neighbourhood cats vanished. Property prices fell. One by one, the former residents of Withdrop abandoned their houses for the safety of larger towns.

You can still visit Withdrop. You won’t see another human soul, and the pub’s door is chained shut.  The former residents used to say, one day you’ll be able to walk down Withdrop high street and not hear a word of English spoken. That dire prediction has come true - the only words you’ll hear now are in the rustling language of the scarecrows.

Background

I think this was written in August 2018. I spent a lot of time obsessed with the ins-and-outs of Brexit around then, partly due to an very undemanding job that meant I could closely follow parliament and liveblogs.

I don’t think I’ve ever published this in any of my zines. I’m not sure if this works properly as a political allegory, but it captures how ridiculous I find the racism that drove some Brexiteers.

Among the notes for abandoned projects are sketches of an entire book, on Brexit and hiking. I’d still like to write that one day, but I can’t imagine ever having time for a project of that scale.

Recommendations

Here it is! It’s been months since the Kickstarter for True Clown Stories but the book has finally been published. It took longer than expected as I wanted to write an extra story, Happy the Dunk.

Actually, a few month’s delay is quite small in the overall scheme of this project. The first version of the book (then called Clown Stories Volume 1) was written in 2011. I meant to publish it as a zine and never quite got my act together.

This version has some extra stories I’ve added over the years (like From the Desk of Frank Carnage) along well as contributions from Chris Parkinson, who was in the original volume. I’ve now added a story each from Swedish art-poet Louise Halvarddson and Michael Somerset Ward. The original cover was a drawing by Kate Shields, but we’ve gone with another image from her, Dead Clown. I love how iconic this looks as a cover.

When Dan the publisher first sent me this photo I felt anxious - what if people hate my book? But, after thinking on this, I decided that I didn’t care. I’d like everyone to love True Clown Stories, but the main thing is that I’m happy with what I’ve written here. I think this can stand alongside the classics of clown literature.

We’re sending out copies to the backers, and there are also copies of this first edition on etsy. Thank you to Dan, Jay, Chris, Lou, Michael, Kate and all the backers for making this a reality!