I like to make up characters and then produce the style of work I imagine them making. It’s something I started doing when I was at school. 

Me and some mates invented an imaginary bloke called Finley Von Finley when we were about 14 years old. He had a pet whale, and no human friends. First we wrote songs about him, then we started writing songs from his perspective.

The idea developed into an avant-garde pop group called The Von Finleys. We performed in-front of our English class. 

We were pretty weird kids. 

I’ve since read that Robert Pollard employs similar techniques with Guided By Voices. 

It’s a fun thing do. 

Here’s a short story by Phillip K. Dick-King Stephenson, a surrealist horror writer who doesn’t exist:

The Burning Hole

by Phillip K. Dick-King Stephenson

She awoke to a burning hole. 

The sun seared through the ceiling like a soldering iron through flesh. 

Nanny Pastel rubbed her eyes and put on her glasses. She heaved her head from the pillow. The weight of varifocal lenses added to her daily struggle.

After manoeuvring her plastic joints into a seated position, she perched for a while at the end of her bed. “Wake up, Harold! You need to fix the ceiling!”. 

Harold turned in his grave.

She fell down the stairs and into the kitchen. The kettle boiled her breakfast. 

“What’s the secret to eternal life, Nanny Pastel?” said Nanny Pastel to Nanny Pastel. 

“12 eggs every morning”, replied Harold ominously.

Nanny turned in surprise and smiled at her late husband. An ambulance arrived five minutes later.

The End