On this day, 38 years ago, a child was born. He would go on to be the saviour of all humankind and to change the world.

Want to know a secret? That baby was me.

Whether it’s the story of my nan riding a scooter through a snowstorm to see me or the rabbi coming knocking when he heard there was a new Jewish prince in town, news of my birth has always been shrouded in whimsical tales. Rumour has it that it was one of only two occasions when my grandpa cried (the other being when Frank Sinatra died).

But where has it got us? What has it all been for?

A swimming badge for successfully picking up a brick from the bottom while dressed in my pyjamas.

A professional qualification in financial crime.

A number one bestseller in Italy.

These are trivial compared to what I really know I have at this point. Some semblance of inner peace and a respect for the man I have become. I like to think I’m well thought of to those I care about. It’s always been my people pleasing way to put others before myself. I hope that it shines. To feel comfortable in my skin and to know that life is actually pretty good in my microcosm is a wonderful thing. I’ve got me people, I’ve got me person, I’ve got me dog.

So here we go for yet another spin. I can’t wait.

I am absolutely thrilled to announce that my debut novel, The Counterfeiter of Auschwitz (or as they’re rightfully calling it Il Falsario Di Auschwitz), is now available in Italian on Kindle and in paperback.

I have been working towards traditional publication since 2011, when I sent the first novel I’d ever finished, Situation One, to literary agents. Since then, I have had a number of knock-backs, not just for that attempt at writing like Bret Easton Ellis, but perhaps a novel a year since. On top of that, I independently published five books – which many of you read and laughed through.

For anyone who has ever thought they have a novel in them, please go and sit down right now and just write a sentence. You do have a novel in you. We all do. It is in our nature to tell stories, for good or ill will, and you have as much right to do that as anyone else.

Over the years I have been lucky enough to get to know, connect with and yes, knock boots with, any number of brilliant creatives. You know who you are and what today means to me.

For now, it’s Italy. But there are three other countries who have made the sensible choice to publish TCOA (as the world is already calling it). You’ll have to use some of the patience I’ve shown before we get there.

For now, thank you to everyone who believed in me, asked how I was getting on, and stayed there every step of the way. And for all those people who belittled my ambition, this is for you too.

From me and Georg Gottlieb, the hero of TCOA, grazie mille.

That bit there, that says that it’s the publishing event of the year. You know, just in case your Italian is a little rusty.

It’s been an interesting year. I purposely avoided the news but remained aware of the Glasgow Wonka Experience, Baby Reindeer and the great work of Chappell Roan.

I’ve read 52 books, spent 116,494 minutes listening to music, podcasts and audiobooks on Spotify, ran, swam and cycled a total of 539km, released an album, wrote two books and we got a puppy. It’s been a real time.

January

Visited Sloenia for Keren’s birthday where I tried bear salami for the first time, drove on the wrong side of the road up into the mountains, danced a lot while drunk on local wine and went dickie down in the snow.
Collected our puppy, Herb, who is leaning up against me as I write out this review and who we couldn’t imagine life without.

February

Took part in the Southend Improvathon for the fifth time around. Playing Doug Ropp, I got to fool around with Bunny and helped craft the earworm of the year. Being a part of the improvathon is a big deal and something I am very proud of. The work that Ali, John and all of the technical crew put into it is incredible and I was delighted to be given over a years heads up of what I would be doing in 2025.
Turned 37 which doesn’t really mean much other than that I got to celebrate myself. We took Herb for his first outdoor walk in Belfairs Woods and then to the cinema to see The Iron Claw. I don’t think I’ve stopped thinking about it since.
The day after, I went to the gym with Joey, and on my return was surprised by all of my friends who had assembled for brunch under E’s sneaky guidance. It was a reminder of the people I surround myself with being more important than the things in life. We went to Food by John Lawson and were well looked after. The wine pairing saw the end of us, as it always does.
Signed the contract for my book to be taken international and celebrated with one of many bottles of Prosecco that made up 2024.
Tom and I visited Manchester for some hard graft and well-deserved Guinness.

March

E and I flew to Prague where TCOA is set. I’d promised her that when the book did what it was supposed to do, we would visit the city where the opening of the book is set. We had an amazing time and were able to visit sites I had only ever written about. It certainly stirred something in my creative side and I’ve been thinking up something since to rival my first book.
John invited me onto his podcast, JobsWorth, and I cried twice but was able to share my journey across a two hour conversation.

April

In a moment of madness, E and I started tracking ridiculous diets through TikTok. Amongst them was the cabbage soup diet which broke us both emotionally. It did mean that my goal of dropping some of the weight I’d put on through the winter drew a little closer. It would be longer still before the Christmas bulk started to shift.
Having a dog meant we went for a lot more walks and everyone stopped us to ask how we had such a glorious boy.

May

We were back to running again properly, having dropped off a little through winter. I love running more than any other exercise. It’s the only thing other than writing that clears my mind in the way I need. I then made the mistake of signing up for a half marathon.
We attended Ben & Jess’s wedding which was so beautiful and a good chance to catch up with the boys. I have little recollection of events after a point. I have two pictures of the entire day. God bless them, every one.
Volunteered with a bunch of people at work and we worked in the gardens for the day. Very rewarding and a good opportunity to rock a pair of dungarees that I hadn’t worn since Denim Elliott.

June

Saw Ed Gamble perform at the Cliffs with Chloe Petts as support. Very very good show which it felt like the real people of Southend were all present for.
Ran a half marathon for charity, don’t like to talk about it. Actually, I do. It really sucked. It was tough going and I was worried about an ankle injury I had picked up in training. Even so, 1hr48. Not to be sniffed at.
Saw Adam Buxton at the Hammersmith Apollo (I refuse to call it by any other name) and Louis Theroux was the guest. Very fun!
Took a trip to Norfolk to visit E’s family and went for a bike ride in the forest, the first time I had been on a bike in years. It made us both question why we weren’t up there more often.

July

Got to see Arcade Fire on the anniversary of their first album, Funeral. It’s terrifying that albums I love and still listen to regularly are turning twenty. Aren’t I turning twenty?
London for DG’s stag do where we got to enjoy Mercato Metropolitano, Four Quarters and The Comedy Store. What more could a stag ask for?
As the weather improved, I got back into running again. There’s nothing quite like it.
Took Dad out for his birthday present, tickets to see Fawlty Towers on stage. We went to the war museum and for Korean BBQ. Total boys day and the three of us had a great time.

August

It was a big turning point for us when we started watching NuttyFoodieFitness and other triathletes on YouTube and started triathlon training. Our plan being to take on a sprint tri in May 2025 and a full triathlon next Summer. Since then, my ability on the exercise bike and in the pool has stepped up as well as maintaining my running post-half-marathon. When we first got in the pool, I couldn’t do 200m without a break.
Went to a silent disco with Keren & Joey. It was mostly full of mums getting a break from their kids and husbands.
Joey and I then went to ATG festival, my first experience of progressive, math-rock and alt extravaganza and one that I won’t forget, apart from the parts I have no memory of.

September

Attended our second wedding of the year – David and Nina’s – and did our best to fill the dance floor until the lights came on.
Went to London to watch the Supertri, confirming that this was a hyper fixation that would stick for a while.
Flew to Turkey and spent a week abusing the all inclusive package and then getting violent food poisoning before our flight home.
Smashed my friends at shuffleboard and lost a wedding ring in a ball pit.

October

Took in the horrific sights of the Serial Killer Exhibition at Waterloo Vaults and ate a lot of pizza after to recover.
Took part in the latest installment of the Gameshow Show and haven’t been clean since.
Met up with an old friend at their art exhibition and signed a contract for the book to be sold in Slovakia, the fourth country for the rights to sell in.
Tried my hand at art and had to accept that I am as bad as I have ever been.
Took Dad to see Sounds of Springsteen.
Unlocked the secret dim sum menu at The Pearl Dragon.

November

Early Christmukkah with Benjy and family ahead of his international Christmas plans.
My brother and his fiancé had another baby, another P Schiernecker in fact, bringing the total sprogs that I am worryingly responsible for to eight. Held her for the first time and had a little cry.
Went to Norfolk for pie.
Took RB to London for a head swelling and spent a great day hanging around with JA.
E’s birthday meant another day in London, with dim sum, The Devil Wears Prada and dinner with her friend.
Relived an old flame by seeing Razorlight play the entirety of Up All Night in Brixton.

December

Finally convinced my niece that I’m not evil and we bonded over Limp Bizkit.
Learnt that I still cannot axethrow.
Released my seventh album, You Had Me At Shalom.
Celebrated Hanukkah and Christmas with friends and family across a very spread out festive season.

******

It’s been a real year. There’s been so many highs. I’m very grateful to all the people in my life, how much I’ve been able to travel and how the fruits of my labour are starting to grow.
There’s so much more to come. For now, let’s enjoy the journey.

My new, and seventh, album is now available on Spotify and probably a bunch of other places.

I’ve put out an album a year since 2020 and just about got this one across the line. It’s ten tracks, all written and recorded by me. For the first time, I have a guest vocalist in the shape of my niece, Kadie, who wrote the chorus of Kadie’s Song (Track 8) and sings on it too.

I don’t care about making money but there is something incredible to me about being able to sit at my desk, come out with something and go on to share it with the world. A sixteen-year-old Paul Schiernecker, trying to learn riffs on guitar, would be amazed.

As ever, the tracks all come from a personal place and, if you ask, I’ll tell you about the meaning. They’re pretty obvious, a little on the nose, but hopefully, fun.

Go listen now.

I’m thinking about writing something new. It has dawned on me that the greatest resource I could have for it isn’t time, which is often the barrier, but instead, people. Or more specifically, person.

This may never come to anything so this post is going to lack the real purpose but I’m sat staring at my own family tree, tracing it back with a finger and trying to trust enough in Google Translate because I never took the time to learn to read or speak Dutch. Where we all came from is fascinating. How I came to be is something I can always find myself drawn back to considering.

What I would give to be able to call this person up and ask all the questions that I never took the time to. Not that he probably would have spoken about it or would have been compis mentis enough to fill a manuscript. What he left behind is me, is us, and a series of increasingly bizarre stories about his worrying behaviour towards his own end.

I keep seeing those targeted adverts, suggesting you buy a shitty little journal to ask your father about his life. It’s my thought that you don’t need to tick that box like an exercise. I like to ask questions. I like to know. I just wish I’d got to that sooner.

This month, as with every November for the last thirteen years, I have taken on a writing project. The aim for me has always been to write 50,000 words in a month. Previously, I’ve associated that with a certain organisation but seeing how they’re falling apart at the seams, haven’t taken correct measures to safeguard their users and have made a series of derogatory comments, both in-house and in messages to their members, I no longer wish to be associated with them and will not use their name here.

In June this year, I started writing something new. The subject can remain just between us squirrel friends but it was grounds for my partner to ask why I kept having books delivered with swastikas on their cover. I get how that sounds but researching fascism sometimes means having books on your shelves that you wouldn’t necessarily read on public transport.

The more of it I wrote, the more it seemed to unravel. I knew that I would have to overwrite and then resolve a lot of that in the edit. What I wanted was a big old block of marble that I could later chip down into something around the size of a chess piece, hopefully my favourite, the knight.

I am pleased to report that at 144,036 words, across 313 pages, captured in 72 chapters based on seven siblings, with just one carefully placed use of the word fuck, the first draft of my manuscript for BYF is complete. 50,000 of those words were completed in November so I’m taking that as a win. I need to put it away in a drawer and probably not think about those awful people for a while. It has been an absolute labour of love but there are other things pending.

I’ve got a hard deadline of next Tuesday to get something very exciting together so there’s no time to stop. I’ll never stop. If you’re a creative person in any way, shape or form then you’ll understand. Even when you’re not doing the thing, it’s occupying some of that grey matter.

Up and at them!

SpoooOOoooOOoooky greetings, friends. It’s my favourite season (Autumn) and one of my favourite celebrations (Halloween). In amongst the black nail varnish and re-watches of Scream and Hocus Pocus, I’ve been hard at work on two very exciting things. As before, I’ll be playing the cards a little close to my chest until I’m allowed to announce anything official.

The book was beautifully edited and we met the deadline needed in September. I am very grateful that I found Stuart and the work he did on the book was incredible. He recognised what I was trying to do and brought that through all the more.

Since my last update, I’ve had confirmation that the book will be published in another country. That brings us up to four in total. Sorry Pitbull, who is Mr Worldwide now? I’ve also got all the sexy international taxation documentation sorted so words like Advance and Royalties are producing € signs in my eyes.

I also had a really exciting meeting recently which has forced me back into the world of TCOA. I won’t say more now. It’s just a possibility but it’s really exciting.

For now, the big news is that my debut novel is likely to be available in January 2025. Thank you to everyone who has been a part of this and anyone else who has asked when they can get a copy. It’s happening.

Last weekend I got the chance to go to an exhibition. What made it truly special was that it was the exhibition of someone that, a long time ago, I couldn’t help but look up to. From when I was brought home from the hospital until I was eleven years old, he was my cool older neighbour. It’s also worth highlighting that his parents were wonderful to us. I would turn up on their doorstep demanding chocolate biscuits and the audacity of such a request from a small child meant that I got them each time. This is the true root of me now being a Sweet Treat Boy.

I remember my neighbour playing bongos in his bedroom, while, through the seemingly paper-thin walls, I tried to sleep on the other side in a bunk bed I shared with my younger brother.

One Christmas, I got a book which had a series of sound effects buttons built into the back cover. It was Disney’s Peter Pan. The intention was to hit the sound effects in time with the reading of the book to add another sense to the act of reading. This was a long time before the brain rot experience I currently exist in of having TikTok up on my phone, Netflix on the tv and a book on my lap at the same time. The neighbour sat with me and read Peter Pan from cover to cover and then started messing around with the buttons. I’d never seen anything like it but it was a rudimentary form of sampling. He would smash buttons in turn on a beat, getting John Boy or Peter to stutter the start of their sound bite before hitting the sound of a tomahawk or the drums associated with Tiger Lily and the “Indian chief” (as described by Disney at the time). He was playing and it was joyous to watch. To me, he was a fully formed human, not just a kid, and he was having fun! It was a game and we were the only two people in the world who were in on it. I remember laughing a lot. There was something conspiratorial about it.

My dad swears that our neighbour used to practice his breakdancing in our lounge, like it’s some claim to fame. Last week he told me those days are beyond him but I like the idea of him popping and locking to the general bemusement of our parents.

I am lucky to have nieces and nephews, godchildren and devil children in my life. My formatting for how I approach my relationship with them is based on what that neighbour did with me, how my older cousins would act like I was cool enough to hang with them or how my dad would introduce us to Star Wars or Deep Purple, waiting for our minds to be blown. At the time, I told him Darth Vader was boring, one of my few regrets in life.

When I went to introduce myself at the exhibition, waiting among a number of eager fans, something in his face changed. He immediately grabbed me in a hug. He asked after my family and had amazing recall of our shared history. There was so much kindness there. He spent more time chatting to me than necessary, sometimes breaking to sign merch or wave people off but he was the same cool older kid he had always been.

I guess what I’m saying is that the people you hold in the highest regard can surprise you. He was the first person I ever knew of who left our little suburb and went off to do something. He may never know, unless he reads this, that it was a BIG DEAL to me and my brothers. He showed that it was possible to take the things you enjoyed doing and turn them into a true passion. I’m on my own journey but I carry that ethos in my heart, doing the things I enjoy, seeing what works and what will stick.

The important note in all of this is not to forget where you come from.

With a song in our hearts (Chappell Roan’s Hot To Go) and a hangover in our heads, E and I went to watch the supertri London event yesterday. In the last six weeks, we have made triathlon our entire personality so this was a social event that was not to be missed. For those who haven’t suddenly pivoted everything about themselves to swimming, cycling and running, allow me to explain.

A supertri consists of three sets of 300-meter swim, 4-kilometre bike, and 1.6-kilometre run. These are elite-level athletes, returning from the Paris Olympics and at the top of their game. I cannot explain to you how in awe we are of incredible humans including Beth Potter, Alex Yee and Georgia Taylor-Brown.

The event, hosted right by the dirge on civilisation that is Canary Wharf, brought large crowds and we found a good spot between the water and the track so we could dip between the various sections. It was so exciting to be a part of and gave us a further spring in our own triathlon efforts. Towards the end of the womens’ event, I felt the hairs raise on the back of my neck. I have never really been one for sport but it was as if I had been blinkered and was suddenly seeing something that others have tried to explain to me.

It was an incredible day to be present for, even if any the very thought of what they were putting themselves through made my stomach flip. We got a great spot on the river for the men’s event, which meant we could enjoy the hair of the dog at the same time. There’s something particularly macabre about nursing a pint while watching such incredible feats of humankind.

What an amazing ability they all had and how impactful and inspirational it was to see it in the, not flesh, but lycra.

This might make me seem like a “DM me babes” kind of girl but at this stage, I’m not ready to share everything that’s going on. I do recognise that I’ve been dangling the debut for some time. People keep asking, and it’s lovely, but the publishing industry moves at its own pace. I have to trust the process.

Right now I am working with an editor to get my book into the best form possible for publication. That means he’s ensuring I’ve spelt schmechel and schmiel correctly each time they’re brought up. It’s with surprising frequency. I am very grateful to him and the graft he’s putting in to reach the various deadlines that are now on us.

I have been writing something else that I’m really excited about. It’s too soon to tell all, unless you ask, but it’s different… while still being in the same timeline. Put it this way, E keeps asking why I’ve ordered “more Nazi books”. They are very much for research and are donated when I’m done.

For now, I wanted to give a big shout out to my writing group, my partner, my family, Antony Fahy and my agent for the varied and various conversations we have had in recent weeks on this. It’s slowly getting there and I am very, very excited. Stay tuned.