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Dedication. The Banned Underground.

by on September 19, 2011

 

 

 

Dedication for The Banned Underground

 

 

When asked by the publisher if I wanted a dedication on this book, there could only be one answer.  The characters, and in particular The Banned Underground.  Led by a jazz-loving BogTroll, this bunch of drunken, pizza-loving dwarfs shouldered their way into my head and, as so often happens with unwanted guests, had a riotous party then promptly forgot that they had homes of their own.  And, it seems, my brand of whisky was better than the brand available in the Helvyndelve. Certainly they drank it all.

 

Once installed in comfort, The Banned (metaphorically) took over, hogging the TV remote, and inviting more of their mates around to visit and jam with them.  In the end, it seemed that the only way to get them to move out was to write them into worse and worse scenarios, until they got fed up and left me alone.  It hasn’t happened yet.

 

Of course, the real inspiration came first from the incomparable delight of rambling in the Lake District:  sitting beside The Boulder Stone, panting on the steep slopes of mighty Helvellyn, exclaiming at the view from the easier Cat Balls, and lying beside Lesley under a brilliant blue sky on top of the sprawling High Street Fell, site of the highest known Roman Road in the world: dreaming of a whole land of elves, dwarfs, trolls and wizards living, laughing and squabbling all around us and below the soul-searing beauty of the high fells.  Who could sit there and not want to write about it?

 

And the music.  Always the music, at the heart of it all.  Has it been a long time since Rock and Roll?  Not for The Banned Underground.  It’s never been away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author’s note:  for my convenience I have taken a few liberties with the geography of the Lake District.  I’m not going to tell you where – put some walking boots on and go and find out for yourselves.

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