CITY OF DREADFUL NIGHT
PUBLICATION DATE AUGUST 2010
Excited that I've just signed a three book deal with Severn House to bring out the three novels in the Brighton trilogy at six month intervals, starting in August 2010.
The Severn House editions will be hardback and trade paperback, leaving the rights to mass market paperback still up for grabs.
The first in the trilogy, CITY OF DREADFUL NIGHT, will be published in August 2010; the second, THE LAST KING OF BRIGHTON, in February 2011; and the third, as yet untitled, in August 2011.
Can't wait.
EDINBURGH FESTIVAL 3
THE YURT
Children’s author MICHAEL MORPUGO lying full length on a padded bench wearing a questionable maroon denim suit (the author not the bench) … GRIFF RHYS JONES hopping from one foot to the other as he waits to go on…PADDY ASHDOWN seeming to avoid ROY HATTERSLEY - surely not because Hattersley in his review of Ashdown’s memoir referred to the Lib-Dem Lord’s ansaphone message: “Please leave a message after the high moral tone…”?
Then there’s that cuddly GARRISON KEILLER who is brilliant on-stage and a nightmare diva off-stage, the rudest man of the festival.
Yes, it’s the author’s yurt where you can observe all human life if you sit here long enough. Which I do. More later.
EDINBURGH FESTIVAL 2
THEATRE
Three theatre pieces.
1) Sitting face to face with four other airline passengers in the miniature cabin of a ten seater plane, wearing an un-inflated life jacket for verisimilitude. Except the life jacket, being some kind of plastic, is uncomfortable and sweaty so all the passengers/audience are focusing on that and not what the actors are saying. And the plane is, of course, a mock-up in the basement of the Freemasons Hall.
The actors are a quick-thinking woman with a perfect 50s stewardess look and a nerdy, long-haired guy with a three day growth. He’s the creator of the piece and the fact he hasn’t got properly into character totally blows it. His shtick being an exposition on birds hitting planes whilst we eat airline food.
I’m guessing – though I may be totally wrong – that he and the stewardess are an item. So he’s getting something out of the show. I don’t.
2) A sunny day in the Botanical Gardens just north of the Waters of Leith. I’m walking round with a big set of headphones clamped to my ears. The set is attached to a shitty MP3 player. I should be listening to a narration but I’m actually pissed off because I’ve had to leave my iPhone, worth six times the price of the MP3, as deposit for it. PLUS, what I’m listening to is your standard boy abused by his father, trying to decide if he’s gay monologue. It’s mixed with stuff about Benjamin Britten and Peter Pears and it all has a tenuous – very tenuous – link to the Botanical Gardens, which is just as well since I’m being directed to different parts of it to listen to these people droning on.
The gardens are utterly beautiful and, frankly, I’d rather just be walking round them, maybe taking some photographs – except I can’t take photographs because I’ve left my iPhone as deposit. Did I mention that? The worst thing about this show is that its title is one of my favourite words – Susurrus - don't you love it?
3) Sophie is in the cast of Internal at the Conference Centre and it is love, not just infatuation. When the curtain of the show comes up I’m one of the five audience on one side, she’s one of five actors on the other. She chooses me (by default – I’m under no illusions) and leads me to a booth where we drink wine, look into each other’s eyes and murmur stuff. We close our eyes and imagine what we would do in an exotic place.
Then we join the rest of the audience (four people) and the rest of the actors (ditto) and she spills the beans on me. Gently. Then we stand either side of the curtain, wave, and the curtain drops. The End. Bloody modern theatre. But we’ll always have Valparaiso.
CONTRABAND, PYNCHON, ELLROY AND, OH YES, THE BOOK FESTIVAL
Edinburgh Book Festival 20-30 August
The rain is cascading down on Charlotte Square as I'm frantically trying to finish my Contraband book for the National Archives. Some great stories but a lot of detail I've got to get right.
A giddy reading month quite aside from the festival. I'm a major Thomas Pynchon fan so the fact he's written a crime novel is manna from heaven for me. And just before I was heading up here I got the proof for James Ellroy's long-awaited new novel.
Both will have to wait until Contraband is signed off. And then there are the events I'm chairing here.
I'm really looking forward to my first three tomorrow: Evolution followed by Democracy and Liberty followed by a couple of crime friends (does that sound right?) Paul Johnston and Robert Wilson.
MAKING HAY
HAY FESTIVAL
Historian SIMON SCHAMA tap-dancing (or threatening to); the great ERIC HOBSBAWM, legendary left-leaning historian, frail (his glasses are almost bigger than his face) but sharp as a pin (and how such a realist would hate that “legendary”); burlesque dancer IMMODESTY BLAIZE chatting intently to high-faluting BBC presenters and journalists – this can only be the authors' room in HAY.
It’s hot so it’s PAXMAN in pale linen, NAUGHTIE in white cricket trousers and DIMBLEBY (Jonathan, that is) and BRAGG in brighter summer colours. EDNA O’BRIEN is luxuriant in a deep crimson wrap and there are the requisite number of male novelists in scruffy jeans and creased shirts – artists, don’t you know.
It’s okay, I’m not writing for a clothes mag, it’s just that the unusually sunny weather at Hay (last year the rain was torrential and my car was stuck in mud for five days and had to be towed out by a farmer’s tractor) has led to appropriate sartorial adaptation – and some eccentricities....
ALAN BENNETT – much taller than you’d think – is not one of those. Diffident backstage, brilliant on-stage, which makes you wonder how much of his persona is just an act…
The sun is shining and writers are talking. GRAHAM SWIFT, one of the authors I’ve interviewed here, punctured the myth of the “natural” writer, that notion that words just flow out of “proper” writers. Of course, words just flow out of bombasts (this is me, not Swift) – writers have to dig them out, often at great cost (that’s Swift).
EDNA O”BRIEN talked mellifluously about Byron for 45 minutes – in answer only to my first question. She was superb so I must try that one question thing again. If I could remember what the question was…
TOBIAS HILL, a terrific writer I’ve been acquainted with since Brighton days, gave a wonderful reading to a small audience at crack of dawn one day. WILLIAM FIENNES (cousins are actors and finger tip-less adventurers) gave a moving talk about growing up in a medieval castle with his epileptic, troubled and occasionally violent elder brother. (My favourite daft story from him: Morecambe & Wise filming a TV special in the castle when he was a kid and Eric bounds up to Will (aged 7) and booms; “Hello – are you married?”)
JAKE ARNOTT was as intelligent and entertaining as ever and I had a lively lunch after with him and his partner, STEPHANIE THEOBALD. He’s gay, she’s lesbian, they’re in love. Life eh?
R.I.P. PATTABHI JOIS
PRACTICE - ALL IS COMING
Only just heard that Patthabi Jois, the founder of astanga vinyasa yoga, died on 18 May, age 93. He was a legend and my old yoga teacher, the late Derek Ireland, told great stories about him. (One or two are elsewhere on this website.) His focus was not on yoga spirituality but on doing the postures. As the subhead of this note indicates, he encouraged patience. RIP.
BRIGHTON & BRISTOL
MAY 2009
Three festivals this month: Brighton, Bristol and Hay. MICHAEL CONNELLY was on good form at Bristol Crimefest. He told how he got into crimewriting and got an agent thanks to the jazzy cover of a James Lee Burke novel. He’d never heard of Burke but liked the cover, then loved the book. The book was dedicated to Burke’s agent and Connelly figured that boded well so went to the same agent himself. He’s still with him.
Connelly was good humoured about being asked for the millionth time which actor he’d like to see play Harry Bosch. He insisted, as he always does, that he has such a strong mental picture of Bosch no actor fits. A member of the audience stated: “When I saw you walk past me onto the stage I thought there’s Harry Bosch right there.”
ANDREW TAYLOR was as amusing as ever and remembered with fondness his days as a ghost-writer and writing television tie-in books based on Bergerac. He also had sage advice for wannabe crimewriters. “Start your novel with a corpse and you can’t go far wrong.”
I also enjoyed chairing a panel of six debut crime authors: ALISON BRUCE, STEVE HAGUE, MATTHEW HALL, MATT HILTON, ALY MONROE and JENNI MILLS. Their work covers pretty much the whole spectrum of crime fiction from thriller to historical.
Six on a panel can be difficult but these six were all engaging and interesting and gave each other space. ALISON BRUCE coped magnificently with a horrible question from the audience. Good writers too.
Unfortunately I haven’t been able to do all my Brighton events but I’m looking forward to quizzing SARAH HALL and RACHEL CUSK this evening. Next week it’s HAY.
PAT MARTINO - BOTTOMY & THUNKY...
Cheltenham Jazz Festival 30 April 2009
And so to Cheltenham. At short notice I was asked to chair a Q&A at the jazz festival following a screening of a documentary about jazz guitar legend Pat Martino.
To be honest, whilst I was aware of Pat - he's in the tradition of Wes Montgomery - I only had a couple of his albums from the Sixties. But when I saw the documentary by Ian Knox on DVD beforehand I was knocked out.
Pat had a brain aneurism some 20 years ago that totally wrecked his memory and, therefore, his musical skill.
Over the past years he has recovered/relearned (nobody is quite sure which) his memory and his musical abillity.
The documentary is great, with interviews with some guitar legends, including Les Paul (I bow as I speak), Carlos Santana and, non-guitar, Joe Pesci, Martino's friend who has irritated me for years as an actor but spoke the most acute words about the "new" Martino when he described his new guitar playing as "bottomy and thunky". If you listen to Martino you'll know what he means.
All this is by way of a preamble because the night was all about MARTINO doing a Q&A alongside filmaker Ian at the end of the screening.
Pat was so zen-like about what happened to him he really moved the audience - and me. After one of his long answers to one of my crass questions I couldn't think of a single thing to say. (I said 'Wow", actually, which makes me cringe as I say it - but you had to be there.)
Great event, great man.
LEE CHILD, DAVID HEWSON, THE TWO KATES AND DOCTOR WHO
Scarborough Literature Festival 24-26 April 2009
I loved this festival!!!! Aside from being really well organised, it was relaxed, well attended and I had a chance to catch up with crimewriters I like, including LEE CHILD, DAVID HEWSON, GRAHAM HURLEY, SIMON KERNICK AND STUART PAWSON (who has a wicked sense of humour).
I also did several In Conversations. KATE ATKINSON was a hoot, as usual. Dr Who author and script editor TERRANCE DICKS insulted his audience but, judging by his signing queues, got away with it. And KATE ADIE was both solemn and amusing.
And the sun never stopped shining. Driving back to Burnley in the Sunday sunshine across the North Yorkshire moors was simply glorious.
CONTRABAND
Wool, weapons and the Barbary Corsairs
My next non-fiction publication for the National Archives is a history of Contraband, which should be out by the end of the year.
The research is fascinating: who knew smuggling wool could be interesting? Weapons and, sadly, humans have been the other main cargoes in the UK history of contraband. I've also been surprised to discover that in the 17th & 18th century pirates from the Mediterranean - the dreaded Barbary corsairs - would come on raids to remote parts of the English coast and kidnap entire villages to sell into slavery - Foy in Cornwall lost 245 people in one raid.
