THE FIRST EVER BOLTON WANDERERS BASED ACTION ADVENTURE NOVEL
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Soldier_Of_The_White_Army
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THE FIRST EVER BOLTON WANDERERS BASED ACTION ADVENTURE NOVEL
The story?
The Wanderer was written to show the different sides of human nature when society breaks down. It also shows man’s persistence to create different classes and form segregation, even when mankind is on the brink of extinction.
This is the story of not one person or class but the different people and classes that now reside in a dying world, drawn together to fight against a tyranny that threatens their very existence.
After a nuclear war that almost wiped all life from the planet, one country remained habitable for the last remaining life on Earth, were humans are placed into two classes, those that are privileged are known as ‘Vault Dwellers’ and are given the opportunity to live in the city sized vaults deep underground were life continues as it did before the holocaust. The Uplanders are those that were deemed unworthy of Earth’s last remaining haven and left to walk the scorched earth were only the strong survive.
Two people now hold the fate of the Uplanders in their hands, one fights to create a single society and bring the cursed down into the vaults and the other fights to leave them to their fate and through his quenchless thirst for power gain total control the vaults. It is a battle that will bring together in unison every class to fight for mans right to exist. This is the story of that battle, this is the story of ’The Wanderer’.
So it came to pass that this story would be about many people, all fighting the different causes, all of which would come together on one single day in what would be the defining moment in man kinds furure.
The story was called 'The Wanderer' and those of you that were here may well remember it, not to mention being in it as a character.
I received genuine praise from these site members, who for the most part thought it was a really good story. So, what then? What would I do with this novel?
Well ladies and gents, unbeknown to all but a handful of people, I have spent the last year or so developing the story and getting it into publication. I'll not fib by saying it was an easy road, I've been in the army a long long time and been on many dangerous conflicts, but this is by far the hardest thing I have ever had to do!
The book will not just be available online, but will soon be available to buy from your very own BWFC Reebok superstore, and book shops around Bolton.
So, with all that said, it is my privilege to present to you the first EVER Bolton Wanderers based action adventure novel.
........................................
For anyone interested, the book will be available from
http://www.authorhouse.co.uk/BookStore/ ... e+wanderer
The book is available for order now.
Just for interest sake, here is the prologue for you all. Please note that the Prologue was taken from my own rough manuscript and may contain some mistakes. Needless to say, those mistakes will not appear in the book.
Prologue
Bolton - a now desolate place in a wasteland where the once large and prosperous town flourished. The town of Bolton had always been known as a place of growing stature and reputation that had become the target of ridicule and rumour from the capital, which had taken the up and coming town as a threat to their dominance over all. For years it had been Manchester, Newcastle and Birmingham that the south saw as southern enemy number one two and three, but they had taken their eyes off the surrounding towns, which were able to grow and build their own status to the point that the then mighty south had to succumb to a town in the northwest that without remorse, continually dealt black eye after black eye to not only the mighty south but tiny Bolton’s big brother, Manchester.
This was never made more evident then in the year 2010 when, after a once proud and successful football club went beyond realistic limit and dared to challenge the might and financially overriding fashion lased clubs that dominated the heights of the English Premier league. Their crowning jewel came in 2020 when after being turned down for manager of the national team, Dan Harrison led his team of misfits, has been’s and never will be’s to the Premiership title. This not only gave the mighty capital a black eye, but cauliflower ears, and two broken legs. It was a euphoria that was to be short lived. Bolton Wanderers were to become the last team ever to win the English Premier league.
On the 3rd of March 2021, the Worlds worst nightmare came to pass. No one knows which country fired first, but within twenty four hours sixty percent of the world’s population human, animal, bird and fish had been wiped from the Earth forever. A year later that number was to raise to eighty seven percent after much had succumbed to radiation poisoning, starvation, survival domination and disease. The human spirit was not to be beaten though, much of the world being uninhabitable led the world’s population of human and creature to one country, the one country that seamed to be least affected, Britain.
By an incredible twist of fate, Britain had avoided any direct nuclear attack. Due to a malfunction in it’s nuclear mainframe, Britain was unable to launce a nuclear weapon of any kind and was left helpless. What seamed to be their curse soon became their saviour as ninety percent of the world’s nuclear powers were set on computer automated nuclear launch against any country launching a nuclear strike, and as Britain had not launched an attack it was left out of the apocalyptic fray the planet Earth was never to recover from.
As for the few other countries that survived the initial attack, their apparent luck was soon to run out as they strongly depended on the desert rubble that was once a great nation, either for aid or their economy. Because of this, these countries very quickly imploded due to civil unrest and rebellion. Inexperienced and unprepared governments were over powered and changed on regular basis sending each country into a kismet of the worst kind. Within ten years every civilian, mutant, radiate or norm had one dream, one aim, one target. To make it into the one country still deemed civilised due to an experienced government that had initialised marshal law and upheld it during even the darkest of times. It was also the only country with working electricity and even a working TV and radio station on public viewing for the Uplanders.
Uplanders, were the people left behind by the then government to fend for themselves. The other ‘chosen people’ having fled to the four vault cities fifty kilometres underground. In this country, the one surviving civilisation capable of civil humanity, people had three things to look forward to other then natural fornication: the governments weekly rationing allowance, a black clad government soldier arriving at their dwelling to inform them that they had been accepted for employment by the government. Giving them the ability to earn kama (money) supplying them a little freedom to buy the few other pleasantries that the Pre Nuclear generation had taken for granted without so much as a second thought. Tinned food products, filtered water, alcohol, beds and above all a good deal of security as most ‘employees’ would be moved into the capital or the other main cities were law and order were still strongly evident.
Employees of great stature and wealth in the cities could even afford the luxury of a working television set, where the one constant government governed channel ran concurrently with it’s radio station. Any other Uplander unable to afford these luxuries were given the option of gathering around the few gigantic screens scattered around the cities to watch government censored television, mostly consisting of news, weather, advisory programs and any taped programming that survived the holocaust and it’s aftermath. Yet once a week, on a Saturday afternoon, hundreds of thousands of people would surround these mammoth screens to watch one two hour period of government information that was neither repetitive nor old. Football had survived the holocaust.
Though employment was the civil way to make money, it wasn’t the only way. The streets were littered with underworld elements waiting on the inevitable, no matter what the situation, human greed or need would always create a world of luxury for the underhanded. Though whore management, unlicensed casino’s and protection racketeering were good and progressive incomes for the mob, none of these could hold a candle to game day. What ever had been salvaged, stolen, bought or owned would be up for gambling trade in exchange for Kama, and at the end of the day the more Kama a person and family had the more chance that person or family had of gaining government employment, creating a vicious circle of crime. The government in the capital has no necessitates as to how people gain Kama, but the more they have the more their standing and consideration for government employment raises. Neither the less, Saturday afternoons between 1500hrs and 1700hrs was as near to unison as the nation would ever be.
For most people the big screen would be as close to their hero’s as they would ever get. If
you want to watch a match you would need Kama and as most didn’t have employment what little they had would be used for gambling on the matches, on quite a few occasions
they would be betting on whether they ate the following day. So at 1500hrs it was as
though a giant pendulum had began to swing to and fro across Britain as a nation stood in hypnosis.
On a far hill overlooking the giant screen of Manchester stood a boy no older then seventeen. He was of slim build with a pale complexion. He wore a scraggy pair of
trainers that looked as though they would fall off his feet at any second, knee length baggy jeans, an old and dirtied shirt that showed evidence of once being white; on it’s top left breast was the insignia of a once great team. On his head lay a dark blue baseball cap curved at the front which hid much of his shoulder length blonde hair. Swung over his shoulder was an old black sack with what looked like a jacket of sorts hanging from the top, but from a hole at the bottom of the bag came the biggest evidence as to this boy’s identity, sticking out like trout from of a fisherman’s net was half a football boot, old and worn with a missing stud on it’s upper left.
This boy was a footballer, but what made that seem so unlikely was his build and stature. He was slim, young and fresh of face, the last thing a person would ever think of finding on a post nuclear football pitch. Yet, in his young light blue eyes lay a fiery glow, a look of unfaltering determination. This boy had a dream, a dream he had had since seeing his father die on the football pitch. Taking his last look at the blood crazed screaming populous below, the kid slowly turned north, breathed a deep sigh, and headed for the town of Bolton. Unbeknown to him, Daxter along with fifteen other ‘misfits‘, ‘has been’s’ and ‘never will be’s’ were weeks away from dealing the biggest black eye in history.
I can only hope that those brave enough to buy the book, enjoy it as much as I've enjoyed creating it.
So come on, it's about time our town and club recieved some limelight!
The Wanderer was written to show the different sides of human nature when society breaks down. It also shows man’s persistence to create different classes and form segregation, even when mankind is on the brink of extinction.
This is the story of not one person or class but the different people and classes that now reside in a dying world, drawn together to fight against a tyranny that threatens their very existence.
After a nuclear war that almost wiped all life from the planet, one country remained habitable for the last remaining life on Earth, were humans are placed into two classes, those that are privileged are known as ‘Vault Dwellers’ and are given the opportunity to live in the city sized vaults deep underground were life continues as it did before the holocaust. The Uplanders are those that were deemed unworthy of Earth’s last remaining haven and left to walk the scorched earth were only the strong survive.
Two people now hold the fate of the Uplanders in their hands, one fights to create a single society and bring the cursed down into the vaults and the other fights to leave them to their fate and through his quenchless thirst for power gain total control the vaults. It is a battle that will bring together in unison every class to fight for mans right to exist. This is the story of that battle, this is the story of ’The Wanderer’.
So it came to pass that this story would be about many people, all fighting the different causes, all of which would come together on one single day in what would be the defining moment in man kinds furure.
The story was called 'The Wanderer' and those of you that were here may well remember it, not to mention being in it as a character.
I received genuine praise from these site members, who for the most part thought it was a really good story. So, what then? What would I do with this novel?
Well ladies and gents, unbeknown to all but a handful of people, I have spent the last year or so developing the story and getting it into publication. I'll not fib by saying it was an easy road, I've been in the army a long long time and been on many dangerous conflicts, but this is by far the hardest thing I have ever had to do!
The book will not just be available online, but will soon be available to buy from your very own BWFC Reebok superstore, and book shops around Bolton.
So, with all that said, it is my privilege to present to you the first EVER Bolton Wanderers based action adventure novel.
........................................
For anyone interested, the book will be available from
http://www.authorhouse.co.uk/BookStore/ ... e+wanderer
The book is available for order now.
Just for interest sake, here is the prologue for you all. Please note that the Prologue was taken from my own rough manuscript and may contain some mistakes. Needless to say, those mistakes will not appear in the book.
Prologue
Bolton - a now desolate place in a wasteland where the once large and prosperous town flourished. The town of Bolton had always been known as a place of growing stature and reputation that had become the target of ridicule and rumour from the capital, which had taken the up and coming town as a threat to their dominance over all. For years it had been Manchester, Newcastle and Birmingham that the south saw as southern enemy number one two and three, but they had taken their eyes off the surrounding towns, which were able to grow and build their own status to the point that the then mighty south had to succumb to a town in the northwest that without remorse, continually dealt black eye after black eye to not only the mighty south but tiny Bolton’s big brother, Manchester.
This was never made more evident then in the year 2010 when, after a once proud and successful football club went beyond realistic limit and dared to challenge the might and financially overriding fashion lased clubs that dominated the heights of the English Premier league. Their crowning jewel came in 2020 when after being turned down for manager of the national team, Dan Harrison led his team of misfits, has been’s and never will be’s to the Premiership title. This not only gave the mighty capital a black eye, but cauliflower ears, and two broken legs. It was a euphoria that was to be short lived. Bolton Wanderers were to become the last team ever to win the English Premier league.
On the 3rd of March 2021, the Worlds worst nightmare came to pass. No one knows which country fired first, but within twenty four hours sixty percent of the world’s population human, animal, bird and fish had been wiped from the Earth forever. A year later that number was to raise to eighty seven percent after much had succumbed to radiation poisoning, starvation, survival domination and disease. The human spirit was not to be beaten though, much of the world being uninhabitable led the world’s population of human and creature to one country, the one country that seamed to be least affected, Britain.
By an incredible twist of fate, Britain had avoided any direct nuclear attack. Due to a malfunction in it’s nuclear mainframe, Britain was unable to launce a nuclear weapon of any kind and was left helpless. What seamed to be their curse soon became their saviour as ninety percent of the world’s nuclear powers were set on computer automated nuclear launch against any country launching a nuclear strike, and as Britain had not launched an attack it was left out of the apocalyptic fray the planet Earth was never to recover from.
As for the few other countries that survived the initial attack, their apparent luck was soon to run out as they strongly depended on the desert rubble that was once a great nation, either for aid or their economy. Because of this, these countries very quickly imploded due to civil unrest and rebellion. Inexperienced and unprepared governments were over powered and changed on regular basis sending each country into a kismet of the worst kind. Within ten years every civilian, mutant, radiate or norm had one dream, one aim, one target. To make it into the one country still deemed civilised due to an experienced government that had initialised marshal law and upheld it during even the darkest of times. It was also the only country with working electricity and even a working TV and radio station on public viewing for the Uplanders.
Uplanders, were the people left behind by the then government to fend for themselves. The other ‘chosen people’ having fled to the four vault cities fifty kilometres underground. In this country, the one surviving civilisation capable of civil humanity, people had three things to look forward to other then natural fornication: the governments weekly rationing allowance, a black clad government soldier arriving at their dwelling to inform them that they had been accepted for employment by the government. Giving them the ability to earn kama (money) supplying them a little freedom to buy the few other pleasantries that the Pre Nuclear generation had taken for granted without so much as a second thought. Tinned food products, filtered water, alcohol, beds and above all a good deal of security as most ‘employees’ would be moved into the capital or the other main cities were law and order were still strongly evident.
Employees of great stature and wealth in the cities could even afford the luxury of a working television set, where the one constant government governed channel ran concurrently with it’s radio station. Any other Uplander unable to afford these luxuries were given the option of gathering around the few gigantic screens scattered around the cities to watch government censored television, mostly consisting of news, weather, advisory programs and any taped programming that survived the holocaust and it’s aftermath. Yet once a week, on a Saturday afternoon, hundreds of thousands of people would surround these mammoth screens to watch one two hour period of government information that was neither repetitive nor old. Football had survived the holocaust.
Though employment was the civil way to make money, it wasn’t the only way. The streets were littered with underworld elements waiting on the inevitable, no matter what the situation, human greed or need would always create a world of luxury for the underhanded. Though whore management, unlicensed casino’s and protection racketeering were good and progressive incomes for the mob, none of these could hold a candle to game day. What ever had been salvaged, stolen, bought or owned would be up for gambling trade in exchange for Kama, and at the end of the day the more Kama a person and family had the more chance that person or family had of gaining government employment, creating a vicious circle of crime. The government in the capital has no necessitates as to how people gain Kama, but the more they have the more their standing and consideration for government employment raises. Neither the less, Saturday afternoons between 1500hrs and 1700hrs was as near to unison as the nation would ever be.
For most people the big screen would be as close to their hero’s as they would ever get. If
you want to watch a match you would need Kama and as most didn’t have employment what little they had would be used for gambling on the matches, on quite a few occasions
they would be betting on whether they ate the following day. So at 1500hrs it was as
though a giant pendulum had began to swing to and fro across Britain as a nation stood in hypnosis.
On a far hill overlooking the giant screen of Manchester stood a boy no older then seventeen. He was of slim build with a pale complexion. He wore a scraggy pair of
trainers that looked as though they would fall off his feet at any second, knee length baggy jeans, an old and dirtied shirt that showed evidence of once being white; on it’s top left breast was the insignia of a once great team. On his head lay a dark blue baseball cap curved at the front which hid much of his shoulder length blonde hair. Swung over his shoulder was an old black sack with what looked like a jacket of sorts hanging from the top, but from a hole at the bottom of the bag came the biggest evidence as to this boy’s identity, sticking out like trout from of a fisherman’s net was half a football boot, old and worn with a missing stud on it’s upper left.
This boy was a footballer, but what made that seem so unlikely was his build and stature. He was slim, young and fresh of face, the last thing a person would ever think of finding on a post nuclear football pitch. Yet, in his young light blue eyes lay a fiery glow, a look of unfaltering determination. This boy had a dream, a dream he had had since seeing his father die on the football pitch. Taking his last look at the blood crazed screaming populous below, the kid slowly turned north, breathed a deep sigh, and headed for the town of Bolton. Unbeknown to him, Daxter along with fifteen other ‘misfits‘, ‘has been’s’ and ‘never will be’s’ were weeks away from dealing the biggest black eye in history.
I can only hope that those brave enough to buy the book, enjoy it as much as I've enjoyed creating it.
So come on, it's about time our town and club recieved some limelight!
Last edited by Soldier_Of_The_White_Army on Mon Oct 08, 2007 1:24 pm, edited 4 times in total.
Leavin me off the cast least, yer cheeky get.Soldier_Of_The_White_Army wrote:Cast:
Commie
Gertie
Crazy Horse
Ratbert
Mummy
Steady
Enfield White
Perfan
CAPSLOCK
Bench
Zulu
Warthog
Gravedigger
Luna
Bruce Rioja
Mof
Daxter
SOTWA
H. Pederson
Dujon
Keveh
American Trotter
Batman
TANGODANCER
Athers
Hisroyalgingerness
Gnome
Congrats though, SOTWA, I know how hard it can be to get these projects off the ground and you must've really been putting in the hours behind the scenes. A huge well done to you. Can't wait to see the thing in print
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communistworkethic
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and you've picked up sotwa's spelling too!blurred wrote:Leavin me off the cast least, yer cheeky get.Soldier_Of_The_White_Army wrote:Cast:
Commie
Gertie
Crazy Horse
Ratbert
Mummy
Steady
Enfield White
Perfan
CAPSLOCK
Bench
Zulu
Warthog
Gravedigger
Luna
Bruce Rioja
Mof
Daxter
SOTWA
H. Pederson
Dujon
Keveh
American Trotter
Batman
TANGODANCER
Athers
Hisroyalgingerness
Gnome
Congrats though, SOTWA, I know how hard it can be to get these projects off the ground and you must've really been putting in the hours behind the scenes. A huge well done to you. Can't wait to see the thing in print
I'll autograph any copies for a small fee.
power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely
kevin nolan is so fat, that when he sits around the house he sits around the house
kevin nolan is so fat, that when he sits around the house he sits around the house
blurred wrote:Leavin me off the cast least, yer cheeky get.Soldier_Of_The_White_Army wrote:Cast:
Commie
Gertie
Crazy Horse
Ratbert
Mummy
Steady
Enfield White
Perfan
CAPSLOCK
Bench
Zulu
Warthog
Gravedigger
Luna
Bruce Rioja
Mof
Daxter
SOTWA
H. Pederson
Dujon
Keveh
American Trotter
Batman
TANGODANCER
Athers
Hisroyalgingerness
Gnome
Congrats though, SOTWA, I know how hard it can be to get these projects off the ground and you must've really been putting in the hours behind the scenes. A huge well done to you. Can't wait to see the thing in print
I don't understand why I have not been selected, what are the tactics? Sack the writer. We need a writer with some experience of book writing, not someone who's got a great track record in forum posting, however well respected he may be! Author and forum poster are two different skills, and I don't think SOTWA has the stature to pull of this increased responsibility? I've yet to see his interviews, but I imagine he sees a lot of positives from the sales numbers so far? Nice one SOTWA.
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TANGODANCER
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Fatshaft. If you weren't around at the time you should check out the Wanderers western novel (can't remember what the bloody hell it was called now.....anyone?) in the archives. Might give you a laugh.fatshaft wrote:
Nice one SOTWA.
Si Deus pro nobis, quis contra nos?
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CrazyHorse
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TANGODANCER wrote:Fatshaft. If you weren't around at the time you should check out the Wanderers western novel (can't remember what the bloody hell it was called now.....anyone?) in the archives. Might give you a laugh.fatshaft wrote:
Nice one SOTWA.
It was called "Combats and Cowboys" and was really rather good too.
http://www.the-wanderer.co.uk/boards/vi ... 588#142588
Businesswoman of the year.
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Montreal Wanderer
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TANGODANCER
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Well spotted Hoss. That link only gives the first eight chapters. Any idea where the rest are?CrazyHorse wrote:TANGODANCER wrote:Fatshaft. If you weren't around at the time you should check out the Wanderers western novel (can't remember what the bloody hell it was called now.....anyone?) in the archives. Might give you a laugh.fatshaft wrote:
Nice one SOTWA.
It was called "Combats and Cowboys" and was really rather good too.
http://www.the-wanderer.co.uk/boards/vi ... 588#142588
Si Deus pro nobis, quis contra nos?
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Montreal Wanderer
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Must be age. TBH, I can't remember what the thing I wrote was called.TANGODANCER wrote:Fatshaft. If you weren't around at the time you should check out the Wanderers western novel (can't remember what the bloody hell it was called now.....anyone?) in the archives. Might give you a laugh.fatshaft wrote:
Nice one SOTWA.
"If you cannot answer a man's argument, all it not lost; you can still call him vile names. " Elbert Hubbard.
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Soldier_Of_The_White_Army
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'A Dish Served Cold'Montreal Wanderer wrote:Must be age. TBH, I can't remember what the thing I wrote was called.TANGODANCER wrote:Fatshaft. If you weren't around at the time you should check out the Wanderers western novel (can't remember what the bloody hell it was called now.....anyone?) in the archives. Might give you a laugh.fatshaft wrote:
Nice one SOTWA.
There have been five novels written altogether. I'll see if I can't dig out the links tonight.
YOU CLIMB OBSTACLES LIKE OLD PEOPLE FXCK!!!!!!!!!!!
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Montreal Wanderer
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Right!!! Thanks, SOTWA. Aren't we missing half a novel - publication got suspended...?Soldier_Of_The_White_Army wrote:'A Dish Served Cold'Montreal Wanderer wrote:Must be age. TBH, I can't remember what the thing I wrote was called.TANGODANCER wrote:Fatshaft. If you weren't around at the time you should check out the Wanderers western novel (can't remember what the bloody hell it was called now.....anyone?) in the archives. Might give you a laugh.fatshaft wrote:
Nice one SOTWA.
There have been five novels written altogether. I'll see if I can't dig out the links tonight.
"If you cannot answer a man's argument, all it not lost; you can still call him vile names. " Elbert Hubbard.
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CrazyHorse
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Here's the others.TANGODANCER wrote:Well spotted Hoss. That link only gives the first eight chapters. Any idea where the rest are?CrazyHorse wrote:TANGODANCER wrote:Fatshaft. If you weren't around at the time you should check out the Wanderers western novel (can't remember what the bloody hell it was called now.....anyone?) in the archives. Might give you a laugh.fatshaft wrote:
Nice one SOTWA.
It was called "Combats and Cowboys" and was really rather good too.
http://www.the-wanderer.co.uk/boards/vi ... 588#142588
http://www.the-wanderer.co.uk/boards/vi ... 905#145905
Businesswoman of the year.
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TANGODANCER
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Cheers Hoss. You're a hero.CrazyHorse wrote: Here's the others.
http://www.the-wanderer.co.uk/boards/vi ... 905#145905
Si Deus pro nobis, quis contra nos?
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CrazyHorse
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I like to think so.TANGODANCER wrote:Cheers Hoss. You're a hero.CrazyHorse wrote: Here's the others.
http://www.the-wanderer.co.uk/boards/vi ... 905#145905
Businesswoman of the year.
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Soldier_Of_The_White_Army
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Was, a hero!TANGODANCER wrote:Cheers Hoss. You're a hero.CrazyHorse wrote: Here's the others.
http://www.the-wanderer.co.uk/boards/vi ... 905#145905
YOU CLIMB OBSTACLES LIKE OLD PEOPLE FXCK!!!!!!!!!!!
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TANGODANCER
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Well, he got a bronze statue; that puts him up there with George Formby and Morcambe and Wise. Even Nat hasn't got one yet.Soldier_Of_The_White_Army wrote:Was, a hero!TANGODANCER wrote:Cheers Hoss. You're a hero.CrazyHorse wrote: Here's the others.
http://www.the-wanderer.co.uk/boards/vi ... 905#145905
Si Deus pro nobis, quis contra nos?
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communistworkethic
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Soldier_Of_The_White_Army
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