David Wailing’s Auto-blog tour

The long awaited time has finally arrived, yes that’s right, Auto 2 will be published as an Amazon eBook on Monday 23rd November. To celebrate the occasion, David Wailing, the author is  giving away a freebie. Auto, the first book in the series, will be FREE to download from Amazon between 23rd and 27th November.



David Wailing blog: www.davidwailing.com


Amazon link for Auto: www.smarturl.it/auto1


Amazon link for Auto 2: www.smarturl.it/auto2


I caught up David on his World-wide blog tour, and asked him a few intimate questions.


Tough Decisions


You’re hanging on a precipice by your fingertips. To make matters worse, you’ve an overwhelming urge to scratch your crotch. Added to this, your phone is going off in your pocket. It must be important as they keep ringing and ringing.

Just then, a brilliant idea comes into your head for your next novel.

Using the last of your strength, you pull yourself up so that you can rest your chin on the ledge for a few seconds and free one of your hands.

Do you:

  • scratch that annoying itch?
  • answer the damned phone?
  • or scribble down the plot before you forget it?


I answer the phone and order whoever’s calling to grab a pen and write down my brilliant idea as I gabble it to them. “Got that? Right, now SEND HELP!” Then I use the phone to scratch my crotch is as graceful and dignified a manner as I can, given the circumstances.


The Conundrum


You’ve been wandering around the darkest jungles of Peru for days. Eventually, you get captured by a tribe of pygmy cannibals, who tied you up and prepared you for the guest of honour spot at their Sunday lunch.

It’s your own fault as you weren’t paying attention. You were too engrossed in How The Marquis Got His Coat Back and simply had to finish the book and find out how it ends.

The pygmies grant you one final wish.

Do you:

  • Ask them to read the last twenty pages to you?
  • Ask to marry the chieftain’s toady-faced daughter in the hope of ingratiating yourself into the tribe?
  • Request a last shot of bourbon before they roast you alive?


I ask them to read the book. I listen in amazement as the pygmies relate Neil Gaiman’s story in perfect English, hoping that they’ll realise someone with such great taste in books is not suitable for eating, and instead invite me to help them set up the jungle’s first book club.


The Price of Fame


You’ve been invited as a guest speaker at a huge Indie Convention in Brixton. Naturally, you accept. You can’t believe your luck. You’re finally famous.

Bubbling with excitement, you mingle through the crowd and soon become accosted by an elderly lady who wants your autograph. She hands you a copy of James Herbert’s Fog.

Do you:

  • Point out that James is sadly no longer with us and offer to sell her one of your own books instead?
  • Sign it as yourself?
  • Sign it as James Herbert and hope she doesn’t twig?
  • Start shouting abuse at her for her ignorance and call security?


I sign it as James Herbert and say “If you enjoy that one, dear, why don’t you buy a copy of Domain, which one of my fans once told me at a signing he found the most terrifying book he’d ever read?”


Peader and the Will


A doting Aunt has bequeathed you £50,000 in her will, along with her pet dog, Peader. You don’t remember much about Auntie Bess, but you do recall a large wolfhound with bad breath that slobbered all over you when you last visited, some years ago.

  •      Do you happily accept the gift, dog and all?
  • Ask the solicitor is it possible to accept the money and get the dog put down.
  • Pretend you are allergic to dog hairs, and promise to find a good home for Reginald.
  • Decline the offer altogether.


I use my editor’s powers to spot that Peader has somehow been renamed Reginald, and from this deduce that the solicitor is actually forgetful old Auntie Bess in disguise, who has faked her own death and is testing me to see if I am a suitable heir to her fortune. I pass the test, then Auntie Bess gives me the cash and wanders off with the wolfhound, who is undergoing an identity crisis.


Dinner Guests


You’re throwing a dinner party and you have room for three guests. Which three people, past or present, would you invite and why?


  1. Douglas Adams. He wouldn’t want to talk about Hitchhikers but that’s fine, anything he wanted to waffle on about (and he would waffle on about something) would be amazing and eye-opening.
  2. Isaac Asimov. I’d ask him about ideas for robot stories he never wrote, then nick them and pass them off as Auto stories.
  3. My nine year old self. We’d probably spend the first few hours playing with Lego, but then I could tell him about his own future and what to avoid, so when he went back he could alter my own timestream. What? You didn’t say there were rules!


Three Wishes


If a genie appeared and gave you three wishes, what would they be?


Everyone knows the answers to this, don’t they?

  1. An infinite number of wishes.
  2. No ironic backfires because I didn’t phrase my wish in some ultra-specific manner.
  3. No curses or moral lessons or any of that crap.




What was the first book you remember reading?


Er. We’re going back a long time here, and my memories of being three years old are a bit hazy. I think it was a Miffy book. Let’s say it was. ‘Miffy in Space’. That would explain a lot.




Is the glass half full or half empty? Or is it just a glass?





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