Bristol author David Yabsley is a writer, comedian and former pool player. He was born in Bristol in 1967.
Yabsley left school at seventeen with no qualifications and started his working life as a Bricklayer on a Youth Training Scheme whilst playing drums in the up and coming Bristol indie band ‘The Little Caesar's'. It was also at this time that he started playing 8 ball pool in the Bristol 'Embassy' pool league, a passion which would last for over 30 years.
Growing up in multi-racial Bristol in the 1980s, his first experiences of rebellion came in the form of the 2 Tone and Punk subcultures.
Playing live at the notorious night club the 'Dug Out' and a regular visitor to clubs such as the 'Western Star Domino' and the 'Tropics' he experienced first-hand the tension which fuelled the wider dynamics of these cross ethnicity cultures and was part of the social unrest that came to define the youth culture of that period.
His passion for writing didn’t develop until he was in his late thirties, prompted by the suicide of a close friend he immersed himself in writing.
Having read an article about Stephen King advising any aspiring authors to write about a subject which they knew first hand, it was a seamless choice to start writing alternative fiction about the world of pool.
Yabsley’s writing style is heavily influenced by 1980’s working class life, the British and American subculture of the 1950s through to the 1980’s, the lyrics and imagery of the Clash, the films of Martin Scorsese, Alex Cox , Jim Jarmusch, Guy Ritchie and his real life experiences of playing competitive pool.
The alternative comedy/thriller ‘Natural Eight’ is Yabsley’s first published work.
Set in the 1980's against the splendour and lavish of Las Vegas and the harsh concrete jungle of London’s Shavers House, the birthplace of the principal character Danny Jensen. It is a roller coaster ride through the world of the beautiful game of eight ball pool and beyond where you will be enlightened to read about hookers, pimps, loser, bums, dolly’s, rubber bands, breakfast shots, cripples, bar flops, nuns, starved crazed crocodiles and more.
Even though the thread of ‘Natural Eight’ is based around eight ball pool the core of the book is about the characters that exist in the game.
Dave Lovejoy, Jensen’s manager and sometimes friend turns out to be everything a bad manager could be. Corruption, skulduggery and poor decisions abound.
Las Vegas and London play the backdrop for the majority of the story however time is spent in Atlantic City, San Diego, Salt Lake City and Jamaica.
The majority of characters that Yabsley has written about are based on real life people and the stories in the book are also based on life experiences.
This keeps the whole feel of ‘Natural Eight’ exciting, genuine and often offensive. The savage world of money pool is mixed with the fantasy world of Las Vegas, its entire lavish splendour, adult night-life and its player’s lust for death or glory.
Writing under the pen name of David E. Yabber ‘Natural Eight’ has been E-Book of the week in both the Bristol Evening Post and the Sun newspapers.
Pending other releases include ‘Still Natural’ the superb sequel to ‘Natural Eight’ and ‘The Strummer Rhodes distortion’ the true story of the 1982 Paris marathon. 
While Yabsley is cautious about drawing parallels between his writing and his pool career, it is clear that his experiences of being around the world of pool and the louche characters that frequent the game remain essential to his writing style.
Yabsley works and lives in Bristol England.

 

'Bizarre characters, great one- liners' - E book of the week - The Sun.

'A great original story' E-book of the week - Bristol Evening Post.

'Find a professional literacy agent who is willing to represent you!' - Nick Hornby.

'Thanks but we'll pass' - The San Francisco Chronicle.


This just in- 'Still Natural'
‘Now get this’
Chapter 1. Wreckage in the ravine.
Eddie Pines squatted down and scrambled to place the balls into the wooden triangle he had just wrenched from its housing on the light shade hanging above the table.
The balls randomly fell into the triangle spinning in different direction at speed.
A cigarette hung from the left corner of Pines mouth, the smoke it was emitting caused him to momentarily squint, the front brim of the pork pie hat he wore was tarnished with yellow and brown tobacco refuse. He grimaced as the smoke bellowed into his eyes but felt uneasy about removing the coffin nail.
An echo that mimicked a rat scurrying across a wooden parquet floor sounded out amongst the four walls of the dim lit room. Momentarily the scurrying resonated around the rack of balls until it was banished by a cold zephyr that chilled the room to poltergeist fever.
A cough and then a stumbled walking hunched figure fell out from behind the brick panelled entrance wall.
Green backs were thrown into the air as if to announce the arrival of a magician.
A handful of dollars totaling less than eighty three glittered through the polluted air and gracefully glided onto the floor around Dave Lovejoy's feet.
‘Here’s that four hundred bucks I owe you you fat fuck. I did tell you I'd pay the debt back before you met your maker.’
‘What the fuck’ Lovejoy's mouth stopped wide open mid-sentence, in front of him was a ghost, a man who was dead, buried and revered only when distaste was mentioned.
He was like Capability Brown in a garden centre, he was fucked as he had no inclination as to what he was seeing. Unable to pay his incidentals the cog in his head ceased unable to reach any optimum.
The man that Lovejoy swore was dead, the sucker he bludgeoned before hurling from the seventeenth floor of a Vegas casino with enough coke inside him to supply the Brat Pack for an audition, the man who had near on every hood, bum and pig in Nevada State and beyond smiling with news of his death stood before the ‘Runner’ illuminating the room with the appeal of a rapist.
Darius ‘Dice’ Donnelly was not surfing in sea water, he was not burning in hell or working as a ticket tout in heaven, he was not serving at a kiosk at the gates of Stalingrad, he was not punching holes into custard doughnuts or lying low in a botanical garden awaiting the flowering of a Titan Arum plant, he was however in New York City, breathing, living and holding a loaded gun.
Two hours ago Dice was eating a wafer thin sliced turkey and cheese Panini and drinking commotion potion but right now food and drink was not on his mind.

'Still Natural' the superb sequel to 'Natural Eight' will be out on Kindle E- book 2018.

For all enquiries and further information please contact info@davidyabsley.com

David Yabsley supports
‘The Joe Strummer Foundation for New Music’