About

LegumeMan Books is an independent press devoted to extreme and/or unusual fiction for extreme and/or unusual people. Run by the Brothers Gunther and operating out of Melbourne, Australia, our aim is to represent upcoming authors writing in the abovementioned styles.

We hope to form an ongoing relationship with upcoming authors who write in styles not represented by major publishers.

A brief history of the Brothers Gunther

The Archimedes plantation was certainly no place for lazy scrawls or even earnest recitations. For the brothers Gunther, it wasn’t a locale they could comfortably call home. The only reading materials available in the day were hasty constitutions, constantly re-written, ill-conceived in the very worst way. Cravings were boorishly unfulfilled and mental paste went unfed. It was the brothers Gunther who first uttered the immortal phrase, “There is nothing to read,” in a coincidental unison that shocked residents of the plantation to their very core. This was immediately followed by a banal slow clap that patronised as much as it invigorated. This was to be the last night on the Archimedes plantation for the brothers Gunther.

Following an incorrectly drawn map, the brothers Gunther made their way across the most unlikely of terrains eventually arriving sullied, yet still moderately careful, at the gates of Mrs Nubb’s Pancreatic Shunts Factory. For the next twenty four hours, the Pancreatic Shunts Factory would become their unusually thin home; that was until, via a misinterpreted game of charades, they discovered that Mrs Nubbs was in fact the owner of the plantation from whence they’d escaped. They were calmly escorted back to the plantation instantaneously.

Less than buoyed by their previous attempt, the brothers Gunther set off on another tack. The first of their failed biographies was stillborn that very night. The next morning, already intensely regretful, they set about their second failed biography. A third and fourth swiftly followed.

It was universally accepted that Pance Gunther, the youngest of the brothers and designated board game admirer, was the prophesised chosen one; the one spoken of briefly in the four failed biographies, who would lead them from the plantation and onto a slightly less oppressive plantation. But Pance Gunther was not one to sit idly by in poorly conceived plantations, a pawn of a fate he had a hand in writing. His excessive verve led him to break away from the path that had become their unwanted destiny. After consulting several moderately priced goat herds and a selection of saucy knaves (one of whom had a third boot) it was decided that Australia would be an adequate destination.

They travelled quickly and violently via an elaborate system of hastily constructed pulleys, eventually reaching their destination in desperate need of toiletries. Upon arrival they were immediately transported to a plantation. Feeling strangely at home in this new land, they immediately set about another biography. This biography was different from the biographies previous in that there was only one foreword. This biography was immediately rejected by the plantation’s publishing house, which was busy promoting a series of Welsh themed romance novels, the protagonist of which was an amalgam of the fine dining experience.

Thoroughly disenfranchised with the turn of events, Pance Gunther took his own life rather unpleasantly. The over-inflated floaty was never recovered from within his tract, although several tried.

The remaining Gunthers wept for four hours and unanimously decided to form a publishing company as a diversion from the grief. Several more biographies followed but were largely panned by literary critics for their ‘barely there’ subtlety and over-reliance on font size. Danielle, the most overtly feminine of the brothers, struck upon the idea of veering away from biographies. He was instantly stoned to death.

Two Gunther brothers remained, each with a desire to publish a biography slightly more compelling than the last. This dream was short-lived as hindsight set in and they realised that Danielle may have been onto something.  After an intense brainstorm failed to recall their stoned brother’s name, they decided to christen their new venture ‘Aww my arse books’ in his honour. They almost immediately decided that their choice of moniker was flawed and settled on the less satisfactory ‘LegumeMan Books’.