The Book That Doesn’t Exist
June 2025 But Long Overdue


In Scotland, in 2021, I bought a book for 3 quid in a used bookstore.

It was called “Brightside”.

A Penguin book.

The author is listed as G.H. Morris (I could only find a confusing Wordpress linked to that name).

It's contains a trilogy: "Doves And Silk Handkerchiefs", "Grandmother, Grandmother, Come And See" and "The Brightside Dinosaur".

This. Book. Does. Not. Exist.

Google it. Nothing. But it’s an amazing book. And I seem to own the only copy on the planet.

It’s got everything I love. Incest, inking the ass of the man raping you in your bedroom at home to later find out who he is, witchy grandmothers who make strong beer, Nazis, early generation condoms, joining the circus and a dreamy child woman called Henrietta, who later marries the man who raped her, after having recognised his inked ass.

I wish more people read it, so we could talk about it.

Yet I do not want to lose my only copy, it’s one of the most precious things I own.

What the fuck do I do with that?