'Humour and horror are never so far apart, and shaking with laughter often looked like shaking with fear.' I first read John Sladek around the age of fifteen, when I picked up Tik-Tok from the science fiction section of the local library. For a teenager used to the ordered universe of Isaac Asimov, reading this … Continue reading John Sladek and Black Aura
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My First London Dream: Excerpt
I'm continuing to crowdfund my detective novel, My First London Dream, although the experience so far has been hilariously miserable. It's a black comedy, though, so I guess that's fitting. Here's an excerpt from about halfway through the book. If you like what you read, please do pledge for the book here. ____________ Pedy had once … Continue reading My First London Dream: Excerpt
Barry Gifford
"I ain't never heard so much concentrated weirdness in my life..." The return of Twin Peaks prompted a lot of excitement amongst some of my friends. One sent me a Spotify playlist dedicated to the music of David Lynch’s films, while I was persuaded by another to join him watching the original series and film, … Continue reading Barry Gifford
Denis Johnson
'All these weirdos, and me getting a little better every day right in the midst of them. I had never known, never even imagined for a heartbeat, that there might be a place for people like us.' It takes me a long time to get around to this kind of thing at the moment. Sometimes … Continue reading Denis Johnson
Summer Reading: Goodbye Columbus by Philip Roth
It is 2000, nine months into the new millennium, and he has lived in London for nearly three years. He rents a flat with his girlfriend, on the edge of Brixton, near the back entrance to Brockwell Park. When they first moved here, they would walk across the park some evenings, to a restaurant under … Continue reading Summer Reading: Goodbye Columbus by Philip Roth
Summer Reading: Last Evenings on Earth by Roberto Bolano
It is 2009, and the summer is a hot one at its best. Most days, he travels to London for work, heading out from the small town where he lives with his wife and daughter. The journey is long, but he has learned to make use of the time, reading, working on a novel, sedating … Continue reading Summer Reading: Last Evenings on Earth by Roberto Bolano
Summer Reading
Summer drifts in with chestnut pollen on the streets and the electrics of occasional storms. The nights open themselves, and we sleep with the windows ajar, allowing the breeze to drift through our flat on the first floor. It brings the smell of smoke in on its back, occasional traffic noises, a blackbird's evening call. … Continue reading Summer Reading
Lost Books
It starts in childhood, with the books read to you at night. The words are still fluid, and the dramas become quickly diluted into dreams. I remember: a rabbit running wild along a country path, a ginger cat curling up in a nest of flowers. It continues with the books loaned to you from libraries, … Continue reading Lost Books
My Copy Of Robinson
I’d like to say that I discovered Robinson for myself, but as usual someone else had to show me the way. I seem to require jumpstarts like this to overcome the indolence, which seems to be my natural state. Alarmingly, as I grow older, I seem more in the grip of this laziness: a paralysis … Continue reading My Copy Of Robinson
Work
'The same people who are murdered slowly in the mechanized slaughterhouses of work are also arguing, singing, drinking, dancing, making love, taking to the streets, picking up weapons and inventing a new poetry.' Raoul Vaneigem Over the past few years, during the months of late summer, I walk through the campus of a London university, … Continue reading Work
Trieste: Saba, Morris, and Harwood
'Trieste, new city That preserves a boyish adolescence.' Umberto Saba In July last year, around the time of my birthday, I visited Trieste with my daughter and my partner. It was the first real holiday we had taken together: a strange experience for us all, I think. Two halves of my life had been joined. … Continue reading Trieste: Saba, Morris, and Harwood
Frankie
After Frankie died, his shack in the woods became a sort of shrine. People travelled from all over the country to visit this place in the mountains to the south of our country, where he’d seen out the last of his days. Students and children camped outside on the grass, sleeping under light blankets, … Continue reading Frankie
