Good Wee Reads – Chris McQueer.


Bringing back the Good Wee Reads series for another spin on the blog I’ll be recommending (highly) finding copies of Hings and HWFG by the newly crowned sheriff in Glasgow town… Chris McQueer. This will probably be a fortnightly feature where I introduce the literary bangers I’ve been reading in my spare time. When it comes to my reading taste there are no holds barred so expect to see a variety of genres. And at the end if you fancy them for yourself you can click on the ‘Buy Here’ tabs available to grab a copy for yourself.


Chris McQueer (404 Ink / Sinead Grainger Photography)

I heard good things about the Glasgow-based writer not long before Christmas and enjoyed some of his hilarious daily Tweets. I was filled with high hopes for good native chat and witty, creative stories. I wasn’t disappointed. I first read Hings and it was fucking brilliant. What a laugh I had. I used to read it during my quiet time and commuting while working in France. I’d be sitting on the tram howlin’ at the mad stories developing in the pages and attracting queer looks from the slightly bewildered passengers I shared my journey with.  I almost felt sorry for them. They just wouldn’t appreciate the sheer ridiculousness of the gags being churned out in such a Scottish manner. And for me  that is where it strikes the chord. I love reading and I read many books while being away from home. But none of them brought me back to Scotland quite like this. It felt like I was reading the group chat between my mates or like I was sitting on the bus and pausing music to hear what the dafty sitting behind was shouting down the phone, loud enough for all to hear, squirm and cringe intolerably. Hings brought me home. HWFG followed suit.



The laughs role out from story to story. Solid, earthy, comedic twists combined with the local charm which allowed me to not only enjoy the books but to also appreciate just how fucking hilarious Scottish patter is. I really hope and wish Chris McQueer has the best of success in the future and goes on to cement his place as a pioneer of said patter. There’s probably a lot of aspiring writers around including myself working hard to find that mark of originality or touch of magic that seems to have been discovered in these two books. He’s been name-dropped with the likes of Irvine Welsh already which is pretty incredible considering the reputation the Trainspotting author holds himself. But it’s all part of the newer generation looking for their own household names and fortunately we have young guys like McQueer who have both the talent and the baws to step up to the plate.



So Chris, thanks for the laughs so far mate. We’re all looking forward to what the future holds.


Chris McQueer – ‘Hings’ (404 Ink). Buy Here. 

Chris McQueer – HWFG (404 Ink). Buy Here.


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So I’m trudging downstairs to the bins out the back. Pair of old shorts and last nights jumper. It’s late in the afternoon of the first day of the New Year. The end of the festive season for me as it’s back to 6am wake-ups and out on the grind tomorrow morning. I pass a couple of fresh-faced neighbours and we exchange the usual niceties.

‘Bonjour monsieur. Bonjour messieurs-dames.’

There’s something about the people I meet in this same situation that I can’t get my head around. The seemingly carelessly ecstatic aura that they encompass. Emanating an ambience of sheer life and energy.. Ready for the adventures of the day that lay ahead. Even if (for talking’s sake) the Gilet Jaunes were to successfully overthrow Macron and his government or an ISIS uprising raised hell in the French suburbs these same ostensibly & untouchable folk will always be there to meet me, dishevelled and hanging, on the first floor landing of the flats of Cours Berriat.

I’m back in my cave now. The room is a tip. I haven’t taken the time to unpack my bag from the week spent back home in Glasgow. In all honesty I haven’t even managed to sort myself out yet. But I don’t really mind. For now I’m back in my own little world ready to jump back into my studies and my work. Back into grafting. Learning on the go. And I fucking love learning. Learning is power, strength.. profound and utter bravery. To me anyway. It takes a courageous soul to commit to education in the world that we live in. Often I think about what it means to rebel against the system of education in fear of something truly feign. A common theme throughout young people who choose to walk a path that strays away from their potential. Like me when I left school. Why did I not want to learn? Why did I not want to acquire knowledge? I think it was probably just that I couldn’t be arsed. Are all the disenchanted folk similar in that respect? Can we all just not be arsed? It’s possible. If it wasn’t for this hangover I’d probably indulge a bit. But I’m fucking hanging and for my own well-being I’ve decided to give it a by. Earlier on a friend asked me why I once collected so many records and threw myself into the clubbing industry as an aspiring DJ, only to give it all up and sell all that I had. I wish I had just said ‘I couldnae be arsed.’

I’ve got a few hours left now to prepare my work things and lay low for a while. I’ve just finished reading ‘Hings’ by Chris McQueer (what a book by the way) and I’m about to stick on the trusty Fitbaw Manager in the hope that signing foreign wonderkids will nurture my bevvy-riddled corpse back to a decent standard.

Happy New Year everyone. Bonne Année.

Aidan x