CADS 63

CADS 63, edited by the tireless Geoff Bradley, has just been published, and once again it’s packed with interesting and often esoteric information about crime fiction past and present, but predominantly past. I can’t remember a single issue – and I’ve read them all – when I haven’t been introduced to a book or author that I’ve enjoyed, yet otherwise might not have bothered with. The joy of CADS is that you have so many encounters with the unexpected.

These include – for instance – two assessments by John Cooper of a selection of books by writers who are today under-rated, Francis Beeding and Clifford Witting; this highlighted a number of books I’m keen to seek out. Tony Medawar contributes a nice little article about Jacques Futrelle, who died on the Titanic, and there are good pieces by a range of the usual suspects, including Bob Adey, Barry Pike and Liz Gilbey.

Curt Evans’ latest piece of mystery scholarship, an attempt to puzzle out which of the ‘joint’ books by G.D.H. Cole and his wife Margaret were written as solo efforts by one or other them inevitably depends on a mixture of logical deduction and guesswork,  but the arguments are well presented, and may be as close as we come to finding out the truth about this slightly odd collaboration. I'm looking forward eagerly to reading Curt's new book about three relatively neglected Golden Age mysteries - more about this in due course.

On a personal note, I was grateful for Chris Simpson’s review of Waterloo Sunset, and also to Geoff and to Bob Cornwell, for including me in their long running feature, the CADS Questionnaire. By their kind permission, the Questionnaire will also appear on the ‘interviews’ page of my website. But really, if you’re keen on the genre and its history, there is no substitute for buying the magazine. An absolute bargain, unreservedly recommended.    

20 Years on

Can it really be true? It is now twenty years since the publication of my first novel. Quite an astonishing thought – especially for someone who still learning his craft and determined to keep improving as a writer! But it is a fact.

All the Lonely People was the first Harry Devlin novel. Harry is a Liverpool lawyer who still carries a torch for the wife who left him to move in with local villain. When she returns unexpectedly to his flat on the waterfront, he can't help hoping that they can start again. But shortly afterwards, she is found murdered, and Harry is the prime suspect. He needs to clear his name, but is also desperate to see the real culprit found, and justice done.

The book was published at a very busy and exciting time in my life. Our first child – who later designed this very blog! – was only a few months old, and I was also heavily involved in work as a partner in my firm, as well as writing legal books and articles. But to have a novel published was something special, even so – it was the fulfilment of a dream I'd had since I was a small child.

The book was successful. Reviews were great, Transworld bought the paperback rights and the book was one of seven nominated for the John Creasey Memorial Dagger for best debut crime novel. Before long there was a TV deal, although nothing came of it.

But things like television, awards and reviews are outside the control of an author. All that a writer can do is write to the very best of his or her ability. I was very keen, having made the leap to published status, to keep going – and so, by the time the first book appeared, its successor, Suspicious Minds, was already written.

I wrote seven books about Harry Devlin before moving on to other things, but he's a character I've always liked and enjoyed writing about. So it was a real pleasure to re-introduce him three years ago in Waterloo Sunset. A couple of years back, All the Lonely People was published in the US for the very first time, much to my delight.

Over the past 20 years, I've been lucky enough to see the appearance of a number of editions of the Harry Devlin books, but the first seven have been out of print in the UK for quite some time. This strikes me as a pity, because, despite the passage of time, I like to think that the books hold up very well.

So I'm pleased to say that discussions are now taking place which may lead to the production of e-book versions of the early Harry Devlin books, perhaps with a number of brand-new "special features". I'm not yet sure this will happen, but I do hope so, as I would love to introduce Harry to a new generation of readers.

But in the meantime, I'm happy to look back on the last 20 years and reflect on how fortunate I've been to do something I love, and even get paid for it, for so long. Now I'm looking forward to the years ahead!

Launching The Hanging Wood

I enjoyed enormously the launch of The Hanging Wood last Thursday evening. The setting was both delightful and appropriate – the historic, atmospheric and tranquil Gladstone’s Library, which gave me the idea for St Herbert’s Residential Library, which plays a central part in the novel.

I gave a talk on the writing of a crime series, focusing not only on how I came to write the novel, but also the pros and cons of writing a series. I wanted to develop a theme I’d touched on in my panel at Harrogate the previous week-end. It is this: how do you write a book in the middle of a series that appeals to someone who hasn’t read you before, without repeating information that will irritate your loyal and regular following? It’s a topic to which I give a good deal of thought each time I write a series novel, yet I’ve never seen much discussion about it.

There was an excellent crowd, and I signed lots of books. Among many pleasant conversations, I was delighted to chat to the former Dean of Liverpool Cathedral, who helped me with some aspects of my last Harry Devlin book, Waterloo Sunset.

The staff of the Library were marvellous, as always. I had a pleasant dinner in the ‘Food for Thought’ restaurant before the launch – a place I strongly recommend for good meals. And then after a relaxing end to the day, reading an old Margery Allingham in my very well-appointed room, I enjoyed breakfast with some of the other residents the next morning. If you are ever in the North West, and looking for somewhere to stay, I’m sure that Gladstone’s Library will fit the bill. It’s quite unique.

Book Launches

Book launches are great fun for an author, but are they really worth doing? I've heard varying opinions on the issue - just as views differ as to the value of book signings. I've been to plenty of launches by other authors, as well as having a few of my own, and I've enjoyed them. Maybe the key question, though, is: what do you expect to get out of them?

For writers like me who do not sell in vast quantities, realistically, part of the rationale for a book launch is simply to have a good time in the company of like-minded people. Selling books is a bonus, not the main purpose. For bestsellers, of course, it's different, mainly a commercial enterprise. But a launch which focuses just on selling isn't terribly attractive in my opinion.

An unexpected benefit of my last launch, of The Serpent Pool, at Gladstone's Library, was that the setting gave me an idea for part of my next book. So it's very fitting that The Hanging Wood will again be launched at Gladstone's Library, on 28 July. I'm really looking forward to it.

Having a distinctive venue for a launch seems to me to be part of the fun of it all. I've been lucky in this respect. In the past, my launches have taken place at such terrific locations as Manchester Central Library (M.O., the CWA anthology), The Hard Day's Night in Liverpool (Waterloo Sunset) and St George's Hall in the city (Dancing for the Hangman.) Nights to remember and I'm optimistic that 28 July will be equally memorable.

Frozen Charlotte

The work of a coroner is sensitive, socially important, and often challenging. It is also, to my way of thinking, absolutely fascinating. A great many crime writers have, over the years, featured coroners and inquests in their work, and I did myself in Waterloo Sunset, the most recent Harry Devlin novel. I was given a great deal of help with my research by two Liverpool-based coroners, and talking to them left me in considerable admiration at the way in which they did their work. Dealing with the bereaved is never easy, and it seems to me but one of the most important personal qualities that any corner can have is a strong sense of empathy.

There is no doubt that Priscilla Masters' regular character, the Shropshire coroner Martha Gunn, has the necessary attributes, and they are called upon again in her third and latest outing, Frozen Charlotte. This novel opens in striking fashion, with the arrival of a woman at the Accident and Emergency department of the Royal Shrewsbury Hospital one cold winter's night. The woman brings with her a baby, but when a nurse takes a look, she shocked and revolted to find that the child is mummified.

From this chilling beginning, Priscilla Masters fashions another of her well-constructed mysteries. As ever with this author, the characters are carefully delineated, and Martha's personal life again features significantly, but without detracting from the development of the story. The believability of the background derives from Priscilla Masters' knowledge of her subject. She happens to work part-time as a nurse at the Royal Shrewsbury Hospital and in an author's note at the end of the book, she describes how she first encountered the porcelain dolls known as Frozen Charlottes.

With this book, Cilla Masters has moved to a new publisher, Severn House, but as usual she has produced an entertaining and highly readable mystery. I've mentioned before, but possibly should declare again, that Cilla is a friend of mine, but I really do think that she is an under-estimated writer, and I very much hope that this book brings her the wider recognition her novels deserve.

The Cipher Garden and Amazon

I’ve received glad tidings from Allison & Busby, namely that The Cipher Garden is to be reprinted shortly, with new cover artwork in the same style as that for The Serpent Pool and the recent reprint of The Coffin Trail. An early version is illustrated above, although there may be a few changes before it is finalised.

This is pleasing news, because one of the unfortunate aspects of life as a published writer – if you are lucky enough to hang around for a few years, and produce a number of books – is that it’s all too easy for your work to slip out of print. This can be frustrating for several reasons. In my own case, I do find that people attending talks I give are sometimes keen to buy the early Harry Devlin books, and I don’t have that many of my own stockpile of copies left!

Yet the truth is that I was relatively lucky. The Devlin series did have a second life – after the books first came out, Hodder reprinted the early titles in the late 90s, as well as publishing the sixth and seventh entries in the series – but even that came to an end. As a result, when I wrote Waterloo Sunset, I was quite careful to make sure that someone could read it without any previous knowledge of the Devlin saga. And at least Waterloo Sunset – a book I enjoyed writing enormously - remains readily obtainable.

As for The Cipher Garden, I wonder if the fact that it’s been quite extensively (and positively, thank goodness!) reviewed on Amazon is a factor in its continuing sales and longevity. I guess that it may be. Whatever people may think about Amazon reviews, they do influence buyers, with five-star reviews clearly pretty important, and I’m certainly very grateful to those who have reviewed this and others of my books kindly on Amazon. One quite prominent writer recently told me of his dismay about negative reviews on Amazon of his latest book, and this rather sad story illustrates, I think, the impact of Amazon reviews on writer morale as well as on sales.

When Should a Series End?

One of the fascinations about the fast-paced conversations that blogging and social networks facilitate is that a single contribution to debate can create a fresh and intriguing direction for the discussion. The way in which these cyberspace conversations mimic, yet differ from, spoken conversations would be a good field for research.

But today my focus is on a thought-provoking comment made on this blog by Paul Beech in relation to detective series. He asked: when should a series end? Let me quote directly from him:

‘The author running out of steam or simply fancying a change doesn’t quite justify a “never again” ending with a popular character, surely? After all the author might discover a fresh head of steam after a break. But what if the series was conceived thematically as a cycle and this is now complete? Or if the character’s personal goal is achieved – a relationship (Daniel Kind / Hannah Scarlett), reconciliation with a daughter (John Harvey’s Frank Elder), etc. Is it then time, regretfully perhaps, to move on?’

Series can come to an end, or an apparent end, in a variety of ways. Conan Doyle decided to dispose of Sherlock Holmes because he became frustrated that detective stories were getting in the way of his other activities – but, of course, public pressure forced him into a re-think. Nicolas Freeling, presumably bored with his finest creation, killed off Van Der Valk, but then had the detective’s widow investigate subsequent cases.

More commonly, an author decides upon a change of direction, but prudently avoids killing off the detective – just in case. It's still relatively uncommon for series to be conceived thematically as a cycle, although as Paul says, it does happen. Increasingly in the money- and sales-driven business climate of the modern publishing world, the decision is taken out of the author’s hands when the publishers simply decree that they will not produce any more books featuring a particular detective. If the author is lucky, the publisher will accept further books with a different set-up. But often, nowadays, the author is cut adrift. I can think of several friends who have suffered this fate, and it is a great shame.

Oddly, an unsuccessful television series can so disappoint a writer that they are reluctant to write about the character again – the protagonist has, in a sense, been ‘spoiled’ in their eyes. I can think of two British writers, one male and one female, of whom this could be said.

Sometimes, it’s simply the case that the author’s focus switches, and the framework and characters he or she has created in the series do not accommodate a more ambitious approach. This is, you might say, the Dorothy L. Sayers conundrum. Lord Peter Wimsey began almost as a Bertie Wooster type of character, but became a much more serious and substantial figure in later books. Arguably, she might have created a major new series detective, but she preferred to stick with Wimsey. Likewise, Margery Allingham’s Albert Campion evolved quite remarkably as the years went by. Today, I think publishers would prefer their authors to make a fresh start.

In my own case, I wrote seven successive books featuring Harry Devlin, as well as a number of short stories. I then decided that I wanted a change, even though it would have been possible to take up a further contract offer. By the time I’d written a non-series book and was ready to return to Harry, my editor had moved on – and my new editor suggested a series with a rural setting. Hence The Coffin Trail and the beginning of the Lake District Mysteries.

However, I never lost my enthusiasm for Harry, and when Liverpool was European Capital of Culture in 2008, it provided the perfect opportunity to revive him in Waterloo Sunset. It was a book I really enjoyed writing, and I think it is possibly the best of all the Devlins. But commercially, there is not as much demand for that series as for the Lake District Mysteries, so it will (unfortunately) be some time before Harry returns. But I hope he will, one day.

As for Paul’s question about Hannah and Daniel getting together – we’ll just have to wait and see! But here's a hint: their developing relationship is the spine of the series, but I didn't conceive the series in cyclical terms. In my mind, it's very much open-ended. A journey without a particular end in sight....

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Merry Christmas!

Warmest wishes to anyone who takes a glance at this blog on this special day!

The answer to yesterday’s quiz question was indeed Ian Brown, formerly of the Stone Roses. It was through getting to know Ian that I decided to feature the Stone Roses’ 'I Wanna Be Adored' in the eighth and most recent Harry Devlin mystery, Waterloo Sunset, at a moment when Harry is rescued from a very tight spot.

Waterloo Sunset takes its name, of course, from a wonderful song by Ray Davies, who also first made his name as part of a group – the Kinks – but is now widely acknowledged as one of the finest of all British songwriters. There was a very good programme about him in the excellent ‘Songbook’ series on Christmas Eve, which featured the great man talking about the composition of ‘Waterloo Sunset’, as well as performing it splendidly in the studio. If you like Sixties music and you get the chance to see this programme, I can recommend it unreservedly. The insight Ray Davies gives into his craft is, despite his self-deprecating manner, utterly fascinating.

Time and the Detectives

Time management is an important consideration for authors of mystery series, even though we don’t always pay it enough attention when our series characters start out on their fictional journeys. I’m not talking here about time management in the sense of how does one find the time to write the books, but rather in the sense of connecting the chronology of the series to real time.

The classic illustration of the problem is the obituary of Hercule Poirot in The New York Times – ‘by conventional reckoning, Poirot must have been over 130 years old when he solved his last case’). Similarly, Ruth Rendell’s Inspector Wexford was already a senior cop when his first case was published in 1964. It’s sometimes said that authors should start out with young detectives – but ageism isn’t a great solution to the problem! We need and want senior sleuths to figure in series!

So what is an author to do? My own method – I don’t for a moment suggest it’s perfect, but it’s the best I can do – is to elide time somewhat. An example in the Harry Devlin series is the way I dealt with the passage of time between the events of First Cut is the Deepest, and those of Waterloo Sunset. I acknowledge very specifically the passage of time in Harry’s life, and in the redevelopment of Liverpool. But I reduced (in effect) the length of the interval between books. Harry was 32 when All the Lonely People was published; that was my age when I started writing the manuscript. Suffice to say that he’s aged much better than me.

So far, time pressures haven’t been acute in the Lake District Mysteries. But I am planning to deal with them in much the same way. This is fiction, after all. Of course, I’d be interested in the views of others on this tricky subject – it’s one where, I suspect, the right answer is that there is no right answer.

The Coffin Trail

I don’t have the statistics at my fingertips to prove it, but I suspect that, commercially, The Coffin Trail is my most successful book to date. It’s often the case that the first book in a series is an author’s most popular, even if later books are ‘better’ in various respects. Many readers like to start with the first in a series, so it’s likely – all other things being equal – that sales of that title will be highest.

Another reason why The Coffin Trail did well was that it reached the shortlist of six for the Theakston’s Old Peculier Prize for best crime novel of 2006. The award ceremony at the Harrogate Festival that year was hugely enjoyable, even though I realised from the outset that, given the shortlist included Ian Rankin, Val McDermid, Stephen Booth and Susan Hill, it wasn’t likely that I’d carry off the prize.

For some time, though, The Coffin Trail has been out of print in the UK. Good that it's sold out, but still very frustrating! So I’m truly delighted to say that Allison & Busby will be reissuing it, to coincide with the publication of the fourth book in the series, The Serpent Pool.

What is more, they have decided to go for new cover artwork, and I’m very pleased with it. Here is a preview.

Incidentally, I’m sometime asked which of my own books are personal favourites. They are: Yesterday’s Papers, The Devil in Disguise, Waterloo Sunset, Dancing for the Hangman and now The Serpent Pool. As for The Coffin Trail, I’m thrilled that it is about to have a fresh lease of life.

Dancing in the USA

This year has been rather strange in some ways, not least because I haven’t published a brand new novel. My last book came out just before the end of 2008, and The Serpent Pool will appear next February. But I have had some overseas publications to celebrate, and I’m pleased that Dancing for the Hangman will appear under the Five Star imprint on 9 December.

I know that I’m very fortunate, in the current climate, to have books published by two American publishers. While Poisoned Pen Press have done a fantastic job in bringing out, and publicisng, the Lake District Mysteries, and Waterloo Sunset, Five Star published the first two Harry Devlins as well as the new book about the misadventures of Dr Crippen.

The reviews of Dancing in the UK were great, and the first American review has just appeared, in advance of publication. Booklist calls it ‘a clever reappraisal of the case’ and concludes: ‘Alternately funny and unsettling, the book examines the historical record, filling in some of the gaps and offering up new answers for some of the case’s key questions. An excellent example of the nonfiction novel.’

You can never be sure how reviewers will react to a book, however much you care about it and believe in it. Dancing is very different from my other novels, but it is a book which I am particularly proud to have written, and so it’s all the more pleasing that the critical response has been so positive.

Rupert Holmes and The Serpent Pool

Rupert Holmes is a highly successful pop music singer-songwriter who also happens to be a rising star in the world of crime fiction. I’ve been a fan of his songs since he was first in the charts thirty years ago, and I became all the more intrigued when I learned that this apparently all-American musician was actually born in Northwich, Cheshire, my own home town. (His father was an American who did war-time service in England, and married a local girl.)

Through one of those strange strokes of luck, at a time when I was struggling with one aspect of my latest Lake District Mystery, The Serpent Pool, I picked up an idea from a fellow blogger, Nan. She just happened to post a link to a Youtube video of a youthful Rupert Holmes, singing my favourite of his songs, ‘Him’. It was a big hit in its day, though Rupert is best known for his classic ‘Escape’, also known as ‘The Pina Colada Song’ (clever and witty lyrics coupled with catchy tunes are his speciality.)

As I watched the video, it dawned on me that the lyric suited the theme of my book perfectly. And as an added bonus, there was a very attractive blonde girl backing singer who looked just like my idea of one of the main characters in the story. I often refer to pop songs in my books – a long list of titles from the great Burt Bacharach feature in all of them except, of course, for Dancing for the Hangman – but this time I was keen to quote from the lyric itself, and of course this meant copyright permission was essential.

I’ve told the story in the past of how fellow crime writer Paul Charles, who represents Ray Davies of the Kinks, arranged for me to quote from the lyric of ‘Waterloo Sunset’. By a lucky chance, it turned out that Rupert and I share a publisher, and when I contacted Rupert, he responded quickly and graciously to grant permission to reprint some of the words to ‘Him’. I’m enormously grateful, and our email correspondence has encouraged me to look our, not only for Rupert’s novels, but also a musical he’s written based on The Mystery of Edwin Drood.

Coroners

Coroners play an important part in many crime novels – just how many, I discovered some years back, when I was asked to contribute an essay on coroners and medical examiners to the Oxford Companion to Crime and Mystery Writing. Since I wrote that essay, there has been no let-up in the flow of stories featuring coroners – in fact, they seem increasingly to be taking centre stage.

Priscilla Masters has, for instance, created a likeable coroner, Martha Gunn, who features in one of her detective series. And a coroner called Ceri Hussain is one of the main characters in my latest Harry Devlin novel, Waterloo Sunset. When researching for that book, I received a great deal of help from the Liverpool City Coroner, Andre Rebello, and from a part-time coroner, Jean Harkin, and what I learned left me full of admiration for the work that good coroners do.

A recent big seller is M.R. Hall’s The Coroner, which introduces a new series character, Jenny Cooper. Matthew Hall proved to be an articulate panellist when we met at Crimefest recently. He is a former lawyer who has written extensively for television, and his experience is evident in the way he builds the suspense in a story which sees Jenny investigating the deaths of two young people, and finding that a conspiracy connects them.

Jenny has a history of depression, and I found this an extremely interesting aspect to the story, especially as I’ve known a number of friends suffer from this sometimes devastating condition. I have to say I didn’t find Jenny consistently sympathetic in the early chapters, and I certainly didn’t approve of her lying about her medical history in order to get the job – that isn’t something that any coroner should do, whatever the mitigating circumstances. But my reservations faded as the book wore on, and they didn’t stop me enjoying the accomplishment wit which Matthew fashioned the ingredients of the thriller, while paving the way for future entries in the Jenny Cooper series.

A Shot Rang Out

Jon L. Breen is one of the best mystery critics around, and Ramble House have done a great service to crime fans by publishing a collection of the American writer’s selected mystery criticism, A Shot Rang Out. This is, I think, a book to dip into rather than to read straight from cover to cover – though you could enjoy doing just that – and it offers the delights of the bran tub: turn to any page and you will find something of interest, and perhaps something unexpected.

The contents are very varied. There are in-depth author studies of writers as diverse as Henning Mankell, P.D. James and Chester Himes, and ‘short takes’ on another hundred writers, including perceptive choices such as that splendid British writer Mat Coward. There are essays on distinct topics, including a witty and wise piece on ‘advice to writers’, a quick but neat attack on plagiarism, and a very good outline of ‘round-robin’ or ‘group’ mysteries, notably The Floating Admiral.

Why is Breen such a good critic? It’s because he is an enthusiast for the genre, but not by any means afraid to point out shortcomings. In this he reminds me of Julian Symons, who could be acerbic, but at heart was and always remained a true fan of crime and detective fiction. Commenting on one of my short stories, ‘The House of the Red Candle’, Breen is complimentary about the characterisation and atmosphere, but less so about the plot (‘easily seen through by the alert reader’) and I have to admit that his criticism is fair. (When, in a review of Waterloo Sunset not contained in this book, he was very positive, I basked in the praise, knowing that he would not be generous about the writing if he didn’t mean it.)

As I said, a book to dip into. I haven’t read it all yet, but so far I haven’t read a single segment that wasn’t informative. A Shot Rang Out is one of the best collections of mystery criticism ever published.

Now – when will some enterprising soul gather together Dorothy L. Sayers’ mystery criticism?

P.S. - Today I'm travelling to Bristol for Crimefest. Posts will continue between now and the end of the convention, which I will then reflect on next week.

Mystery Women and reviews

The latest issue of the Mystery Women newsletter has just arrived, and one of the upcoming events advertised on the front cover is to take place at the Portico Library in Manchester at 6.30 pm on 8 July. The Portico is quite a famous venue but one which, unaccountably, I’ve never attended. But I’ll be putting that right on 8 July, since I’ll be appearing in a panel discussion with Kate Ellis, Dolores Gordon-Smith and Cath Staincliffe. The moderator is to be Jennifer Palmer, whom Cath and I met the other day when talking to an audience at Waterstones’ in Altrincham.

The Mystery Women newsletter covers events involving members, but the main focus is on reviews. I’m glad to say that there is a gratifying review of Waterloo Sunset by Sue Lord: ‘a well-plotted novel with twists, turns and surprises. The mix of beautifully drawn characters contains gangsters, cleaners and security men…’

Sue Lord also makes mention of the Lake District Mysteries, and the books have been reviewed very favourably in recent blog posts:

The Coffin Trail

The Cipher Garden: Books Please

The Cipher Garden: DJ’s Krimiblog

In the Lords

I spent a chunk of Thursday attending a reception at the House of Lords to celebrate the 35th anniversary of the establishment of Local Solutions, a Merseyside social enterprise that does wonderful work in caring for vulnerable members of our society. The event was hosted by Lord Alton, maybe better known as the former Liberal MP David Alton, who is a previous chair of Local Solutions. The speakers included two people who spoke very movingly of how Local Solutions had changed their lives for the better – one the mother and carer of a severely disabled woman, and the other a former refugee from Rwanda who fled from genocide and is now herself a trained, and, I have no doubt, highly compassionate carer.

I’ve visited the Lords once before, to attend a Crime Writers Association Diamond Dagger ceremony – the recipient that day being a terrific writer, Margaret Yorke. I was so impressed by the setting, with its wonderful views up and down the Thames, that I used it as a backdrop for the first chapter of my London based novel of psychological suspense, Take My Breath Away. The book was not a massive commercial success, but I'm fond of it, and some people whose judgment I respect reckon that first chapter is one of the best things I’ve written.

After the reception, I went with a colleague and the rector of Liverpool Parish Church (which itself featured in Waterloo Sunset) to look round Westminster Hall and sit in on a debate. A number of famous faces were there to be seen, although the debate – on defence – lacked obvious drama. I wondered about looking in on the House of Commons debate on MPs’ expenses, which by all accounts was a bizarre affair, but decided against. Though perhaps I could have learned something - some of the expenses claims we have been reading about recently suggest that our elected representatives are accomplished exponents of creative fiction

Waterloo Sunset and the Kinks

An endlessly intriguing feature of the blogosphere is that you stumble across all sorts of unexpected delights. I think it was a link from John Baker’s blog that took me to a site on the topic of ‘The Kinks in Literature’, where I found a very positive review of Waterloo Sunset (the song which provided the title was, of course, a Kinks hit written by the great Ray Davies.) It turned out that the compiler of the site is Dave Quayle, and among other things he’s acquainted both with John and that very fine short story writer Mat Coward.

When I was young, my parents used to go out to a club in Northwich called The Grey Parrot (a name slightly reminiscent of The Odd Flamingo, the eponymous club in Nina Bawden’s crime novel, perhaps?) There was a small hotel attached to the club and many bands who played Saturday gigs in the town in the 1960s stayed there overnight. So my parents – rather improbably, it must be said – met a good many pop stars of the 1960s. Their number included the Kinks, and they even obtained for me a photo signed by the band members, though I’m afraid it disappeared years ago. I can’t remember many of the others whom they met, though Lulu was among them, but it does strike me as an amusing paradox that a couple who were definitely not part of the Swinging Sixties should actually have had a few late night drinks with so many stars of the day.

I’ve included a link to Dave’s site in the blogroll. Other recent additions include Pulp Serrenade, which I discovered recently – very good!

Writing Communities

One of the many pleasures I get from the blogging game is the chance of getting to know fascinating people whose paths would otherwise never cross with mine. And the same is true of the writing game as a whole(and yes, in some respects it is reasonable to think of it as a game – at least, in my opinion.)

A couple of days ago, for instance, and completely out of the blue, I received a call from a lady called Sarina Stapledon. She’d been told by a friend that Waterloo Sunset featured, in passing, the legendary science fiction writer, Olaf Stapledon. And it turns out that Sarina is the late Olaf’s daughter in law. She and her husband have invited me to visit them for a chat about Olaf, and I’m looking forward to filling the many gaps in my knowledge about a writer of distinction who just happened to have a day job working for a shipping company in the heart of Liverpool.

I was also contacted by a writer called Frank Burton, whose website features promotes his own work. I haven’t had a chance as yet to read the novella he told me about, and which is available via his website, but his email communicated great enthusiasm for writing, so I’m looking forward to it.

Blogs provide wonderful opportunities for mid-list writers like me to get some review coverage at a time when the review space in print newspapers seems constantly to diminish. From the comments on this blog, and the information contained in others mentioned in the blogroll, I derive a great deal of enjoyment, as well as intriguing snippets of information.

Naturally, I’m glad when people say nice things about this blog and a couple of jolly good writers based in the US and whom I’ve never met have this week given awards to ‘Do you write under your own name?’ Julia Buckley kindly gave me a ‘Blog Sisterhood Award’ (actually, I’m also a member of Mystery Women, which continues to baffle Mrs Edwards) for a blog with ‘great attitude’. Eric Mayer generously bestowed a Premio Dardos ("prize darts" in Italian) award for recognition of cultural, ethical, literary and personal values in the form of creative and original writing. Much appreciated. However, I’m going to wimp out of nominating 25 other blogs for these awards, and I’ll content myself with saying that the blogs in the blogroll offer a great deal of info and entertainment to me, and I’m sure you’ll find plenty in them to appeal to you too.

City Talk - good news and bad

Another freezing cold day yesterday, but in the evening, it was great to spend some time with Janette Fleming, a delightful librarian I’ve worked with on several occasions over the years. Janette is a reader development officer at Halton Lea library in Runcorn, and she’s organised a number of talks I’ve been involved with, as well as a Victorian mystery event, and a day-long workshop at which I first met Sophie Hannah.

On this occasion, she was pre-recording an interview for the radio station City Talk – my second visit to the Liverpool Beacon in a week, and a chance to see the illuminated night-time city from the viewing platform (which, when I first came to the city was the window for a marvellous revolving restaurant.). Our conversation ranged over a number of topics, including Dancing for the Hangman and Dr Crippen (a few years ago, Janette was the first person to hire me to give a talk on true crime, as opposed to crime fiction, and I much enjoyed it.)

However, I caught up with some sad news. I mentioned in my post of 3 April that I’d been interviewed on City Talk by the breakfast presenters Phil and Kim and that Phil Easton had given Waterloo Sunset enthusiastic and well-researched coverage. I was shocked to learn that Phil died a few days ago – without any prior warning, of a massive stroke. Oddly, I’d heard his voice just before his death – he was the announcer at Liverpool Football Club’s home matches, and he was working there when I watched the match with Chelsea last Sunday. I only met him that one time, but he was clearly a highly professional broadcaster and I’m very sorry he has died.

Research

In my early days as a writer, I never used to be a great fan of research. I probably took the old advice ‘write about what you know’ rather too literally. But all too soon, I ran out of things I knew – and I needed to find out more intriguing stuff to make sure that my new stories remained fresh and, where possible, ‘different’. Over the past few years, I’ve done a great deal of research, and although it can be time-consuming, it’s also very enjoyable.

Often, research is straightforward, at least in theory. To write credible Lake District scenes set in the bleak midwinter, for instance, you really have no choice but to brave the elements and see what the place is like when the tourists are few and far between. It was relatively easy, when writing Waterloo Sunset, to explore places in Liverpool where scenes were set – the map on my website highlights some of them. And the marvellous help given to me by the City Coroner, Andre Rebello, made a real difference to key aspects of the story.

Reading the newspapers can be very useful – so can surfing the net. I keep press cuttings about things that strike me as odd or entertaining, and a story I clipped from a national newspaper 20 years ago has helped me with the novel I’m writing at present.

But sometimes effective research takes a much less tangible form – it can be more a matter of talking to people, and letting ideas seep into your consciousness. The joy of escapist fiction is that the incidents and characters that emerge are very different from those you have encountered in real life. And yet, without the spark of a stimulating conversation, you might never have had those ideas. Something I remind myself of when in anti-social mood!

Over the past fortnight, for instance, I’ve had the pleasure of conversations with some fascinating people, including a barrister, a judge, a retired taxman, and a former SAS man, as well as soaking up the atmosphere in the directors’ box and guest lounge at a big football match. The conversations were fun for their own sake, and I wasn’t particularly discussing plot ideas with my companions, but they are all knowledgeable and friendly people, with interesting things to say not only about their work, but also about life in general. Perhaps one of these days, their insights will help inspire a plot element in a future story - it's the closest I can get to defining 'inspiration'. But just in case they don’t, I’ll keep devouring any scraps of information that catch my interest, from any source I can find.