Karl Wiggins

My goal, my life’s ambition if you like, is to give direction to comedy, purpose to satire. And this is probably why I write the way I do, in order to use self-deprecating, piss-taking humour to bring to the fore situations that just don’t stack up. To demonstrate that serious issues can be approached with humour.

Embarrassingly, a number of the reviews for my books seem to involve people losing control of their bladder; “Anyone who is a bit saucy, very fond of boobies and doesn't mind peeing slightly when they laugh too hard, this is the book for you!” “Best not to read this book on the train if you have a full bladder because by the end of your journey you will have a damp patch in an embarrassing place.” “I have to admit that I wet myself twice while reading it but this may in part have been due to my age and a couple of bottles of a fine St. Emilion,” “Due to the laughter you owe my secretary one clean pair of knickers.”

Two reviewers have even suggested I should tour as a stand-up comedian; “I found myself laughing out-loud and even sharing segments with my spouse ….. I think Karl could tour as a stand-up comedian,” “Mr Wiggins has views on life that are expressed in a manner worthy of any stand-up comedian.”

So my scribblings do seem to raise a smile and a chuckle, and either way you look at it, that has to be a good thing. Hardly any subject is taboo to the Englishman when he’s laughing, and this often seems insensitive to other cultures, but the bedrock of the British sense of humour is a strong sense of sarcasm and self-deprecation. The British can be very passionate – and if you doubt that try going to a football match - but that passion is often hidden deep in our humour so that other nationals fail to not only recognise the deadpan delivery and are never too sure if they’ve been involved in a serious conversation or just a little bit of friendly banter. 
Having said that my style of writing is now appealing more and more to the American market, and I write a regular column for a newsletter in Copiague, Long Island, New York. I’m really enjoying connecting with the people over there.

Interestingly enough, my writing style has been compared to two people, both now dead, Charles Bukowski and Socrates. Their names keep popping up in reviews; “Mr Bukowski, meet Socrates. This is an exceptionally amusing collection of observations of daily life,” “The prose style reminded me quite a lot of Charles Bukowski’s short essays and observations,” “It reminded me a lot of Bukowski’s novels, but particularly Factotum and Post Office,” “Had me laughing out loud several times, which doesn’t happen often to me. It reminded me a lot of Bukowski’s novels,” (I swear those are two completely separate reviewers), “Karl Wiggins is like a contemporary Socrates.” 

I’m sure both Socrates and Charles Bukowski wouldn’t be too proud if they read that.

I have self-published five books.
I don’t do Author Interviews with the same old boring, well-trodden questions. I won’t allow the interviewers to lead me along that route. But if anybody wishes to enjoy an Author Interview with a difference, you check these out. They tell me I’m “not easily containable.”

The Indie Tribe.com     MARSocial: Cap’n Joe’s Interview

Calico Jack in your Garden

Humour; rant

I’ve been told I write with an “easy-going style and a zest for living that is infectious.” I’m not so sure about that, but I have an opinion on a range of hot issues, although you don’t have to agree with all my views to enjoy the ride. Other comments on my writing style warn that I "talk to the reader with all the confidence of a man in touch with his own reality, in a voice which is seasoned with a hint of world weariness that is so telling of a writer who has written what he knows and written it with disarming fearlessness." And that I guess is true.

I can be a handful at times and I know it. I’m strong-willed, a bit outspoken and I write exactly what I’m thinking. It’s not to everyone’s taste, but this is a book you can dip in and out of whenever the mood takes you.                                              

                                                  Sample Calico Jack in your Garden

Grit – The Banter and Brutality of the Late-Night Cab Driver

Auto-biography, humour, violence

Grit, a book about driving cab, is populated by oddballs, weirdoes, comedians, eccentrics, head cases, prima donnas and hard cases. And they’re just the drivers. Luckily I’ve met and befriended many characters along the way, and their stories deserve to be told. 

In the last third of the book, I recall my time spent driving cab in the projects of Watts, Compton and Inglewood, home of the infamous Bloods & Crips, during the early 80’s. I’ve intended to paint an ominous picture of a community destroyed by drugs, guns and violence. You’ll almost smell the omnipresent whiff of cheap wine, and feel the dirty lino under your feet. You’ll be able to hear my characters, see them and, in some instances, actually smell them. They’ll leave their stain on you. You may well be able to relate to guys who used their fists and their wits, you may laugh at their humour and get their jokes, but it’ll be the thugs with guns and no soul who will unsettle you. I want you to be scared of them.                                                
                                             
                                                            Sample GRIT

Shit my History Teacher DID NOT tell me!

History 

If you’re a history or philosophy buff this book should be as irresistible as a kebab to a pisshead.

”Wiggins approaches his subjects with an eye for the ridiculous ….. before revealing his own thoughts on the matter with the poise and wit of a stand-up comedian delivering a killer punch-line”

“Karl has a knack of engaging the reader in the subject and then as an added bonus, making it funny. Loved reading this book”

It’s high time we had some history books for adults!

Words are our Sorcery

You know those ….. drifting kinds of thoughts? When it’s easy to believe that someone else is dreaming you? Well that’s Trance Poetry.

Words are the writer’s sorcery, our dark arts and our sleight of hand. They’re our enchantment and our temptation.

But only half of this book is poetry, well 56% to be precise. A while ago I took an interest in the parallel lives of the chef and the writer, cooking up a storm in the kitchen. How the chef creates his magic in the chaotic environment of the kitchen compares well to how writers create their hocus-pocus in the peace and quiet of the study. A chef’s wizardry is in his ingredients, whilst a writer’s sorcery is in his words. So I wrote a few chapters on food, following it all over the world at one stage, attempting to paint pictures with my words, comparing the trades of chef, bricklayer, and even Masai Warrior with that of the writer.

I’ve finished the book with three chapters on parenthood. Fatherhood to be precise. True stories actually. My goal here is to use the writer’s sorcery to establish emotion and hopefully leave you with a lump in your throat

Dogshit Saved my Life

This book is not a novel, and if you’re looking for a book that is all sweetness and light, please give this one a miss. It’s not for you. I won’t be offended and I honestly wish you a great life. If everyone likes me, then I’m not being controversial enough.

“I got kicked out of bed TWICE for laughing so hard. This is, by far, one of the funniest books I've yet read”

“JFC!!!! This is soooo hilarious”

“I have never, ever read a book that caught me so unawares and made me laugh so much. I laughed and laughed so much on the train home that I had to stop reading it. He is capable of making the reader cry with laughter”

“There were times when I had to set the Kindle down and just laugh out loud. Some of Mr. Wiggins' thoughts are just hilarious”

2005 - Thanks for the Vodka

Until now no one has had the bravery to discuss their own mental health issues; clinical depression, mood disorders, self-harm etc. Nobody has had the courage to open their hearts with full transparency and explain the reasons behind self-mutilation and the deep shame and resentment that is felt when they are reduced to confronting emotional pain and anger in this manner.

We’re not talking silly little Emo children, making pathetic cat scratches on their arms and flaunting what they’re doing to the rest of the world.  Not at all. Here we have someone saying, “This is what I do (or used to do) and this is why I did it, and it has always hurt and humiliated me deeply.”

It’s not a joke. Mental illness is no more a joke than cancer, heart disease or diabetes.

Previous comments on Harpie’s writing are that she “reveals her innermost thoughts, slashing a metaphoric vein and bleeding onto the page.” And those words were chosen for a reason. Harpie writes with her heart on her sleeve. She is emotionally transparent. Her feelings are as clear as the scars on her arms and legs. But the message here is that there are some scars that are never seen.

This book’s not all messed up. It’s a year in the life of a working class hero who’s come to be loved by many of her fans. In ‘2005 – Thanks for the Vodka’ Harpie hopes that by laying herself bare she can in some small way assist in the perception and understanding of those with mental health issues.

I am immensely proud of her.
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