THE TRIPPING HORSE IS AN EXTRAORDINARY ODYSSEY INTO FAMILY DYNAMICS, CONFLICTING LIFESTYLES AND SELF-DISCOVERY. ULTIMATELY, IT IS A POWER METAPHOR FOR LSD AND ITS REVOLUTIONARY PROPERTIES, AND HOW THE SUBSTANCE CAN CHALLENGE THE OFTEN NARROW PERIMETERS OF EXISTENCE.
26-year-old Ashley Marshall lives life through a sense of order. Working as an insurance clerk he finds plenty of opportunities to arrange his and other people's lives. However, despite strenuous efforts, his home life is far harder to regulate. Still living at home with his mother and itinerant brother David, he finds it impossible to regulate their unpredictable behaviour.
One Friday morning, Ashley's brother leaves home to spend a weekend at a rock festival. His failure to return spends his mother into an uncontrollable panic. Terrified of her declared intention to travel to the festival site, Ashley reluctantly agrees to try and locate his errant brother.
Outside of his comfort zone, Ashley enters into a myriad of new and terrifying experiences that tear at his narrow sensibilities and challenge his sense of being.
The Tripping Horse is an extraordinary odyssey into family dynamics, conflicting lifestyles and self- discovery.
Simon Wells is the author of seven books including “Butterfly On A Wheel” and the best-selling “Charles Manson: Coming Down Fast”. The Tripping Horse is his first novel.
Quick links to Purchase The Tripping Horse or download the FREE Sample on Amazon instantly - worldwide
SIMON WELLS' Biography on Amazon
Simon Wells has written on film and music for numerous magazines and newspapers including the Guardian; The Times and The Independent. He is a regular contributor to Record Collector, Hotdog, TV
Zone, Watch, Total Film, and the Beatles' Book; the group's official magazine. In addition to his writing credits, Simon has researched numerous projects for the likes of the BBC, Channel Four
and Virgin, as well as broadcasting live on LBC, ITN and BBC on film and music.
In 2001, Simon co-wrote "Your Face Here- British Cult Movies Since the 1960' which was published by Fourth Estate/Harper-Collins. The book was a critical success, entering the BBC's "Top Ten Film Books of the Year" list. During the summer of 2003, Simon was asked to curate a month-long season of classic 1960's cult movies at the National Film Theatre in London. Simon is the author of the hugely successful "The Beatles: 365 Days" published by Abrams/Time Warner, which to date has sold over 100,000 copies worldwide. Simon has also written "The Beatles in Japan," published by Tascam in June 2006, and "The Rolling Stones: 365 Days" published in November 2006. In July 2007, Simon wrote the screenplay for the documentary "Don't Knock Yourself Out", a visual history of "The Prisoner" television series. 2009 saw the release of "Coming Down Fast", an exhaustive account of the Charles Manson "Family" saga-published by Hodder & Stoughton. Simon's new book is "Butterfly On A Wheel" an account of the arrest and trial of Keith Richards and Mick Jagger in 1967.
Simon is also a musician and has his first album out on 208 records entitled, "Sometimes In The Morning". Available from 208records at http://simon-wells.208records.co.uk/releases
Simon Wells has written on film and music for numerous magazines and newspapers including the Guardian; The Times and The Independent. He is a regular contributor to Record Collector, Hotdog, TV Zone, Watch, Total Film, and the Beatles' Book; the group's official magazine. In addition to his writing credits, Simon has researched numerous projects for the likes of the BBC, Channel Four and Virgin, as well as broadcasting live on LBC, ITN and BBC on film and music.
Chapter 8 - Opening Extract ...
After a few abortive turns, Leslie realised the directions he’d been given earlier were all incorrect. This irked him, muttering “fool” at the mental image of the policeman’s face as he noted each error along the way. As far as he was concerned, this just seemed to be another example of the disorder which appeared to run riot in the area. Somewhat depressingly, he surmised that if not even a policeman couldn’t get it right then who the hell could?
Of some consolation, the road to Putleigh was well sign posted. Equally, the manor house was a fairly simple discovery, mainly by dint of it being the only property in the area. Pulling up apprehensively at what constituted an entrance, Leslie surveyed what lay in front of him. Offering the feeblest of defences was a once proud five-bar gate, now hanging onto life by a solitary rusted hinge. While the legend ‘Putleigh Manor’ was still visible, someone had crudely sprayed some purple paint over the sign, making it look rather pitiful. Immediately beyond the gate, some semblance of a drive was apparent, although the presumably once majestic sweeping drove had long lost its battle with the assault of numerous plants that had driven through the tarmac.
Significantly anxious by these untamed elements, Leslie parked his MG just far enough away to appear that it wasn’t connected to anything that may be occurring inside. After checking that the car was locked, he then ensured the soft-top roof was equally secure. He didn’t think he was being overzealous; it was just there was a distinct atmosphere of something going on that he found unnerving. What it was though, he couldn’t really determine.
Wandering past the remnants of the gate, Leslie couldn’t fail but notice the mass of overgrown foliage that had invaded the estate. His elemental knowledge of botany informed him that there were some quite unusual plants doted around, some not wholly indigenous to the area. However, with no apparent tendering over many years, the place resembled more of a wild jungle.
Following a meander of some 200 metres, Leslie approached a sharp turn in the drive. Noticing the absence of any further trees, he assumed that he was nearing the manor itself. Any thoughts he had that the state of the drive was merely an oversight to the general condition of the house were swiftly quashed, as the property came fully into view.
While the policeman had mentioned that the house was a little run-down, Leslie had imagined it was nothing more than a bit tatty. However, on taking in the full vista of the manor, this was way, way outside of his concept of dereliction. For a start, half of the roof appeared missing. Seemingly in a desperate attempt to patch it up, an enormous sheet of blue tarpaulin had been draped over the large gaping hole, although even this flapped up and down in the summer breeze.