Why?

When I get a great writing idea, I think about it for about two seconds, then deliberately go and do something else. Watch some TV maybe or eat some cake. Basically, making a conscious effort to avoid it. Why? Surely I should immediately develop that idea, burning as it is in the embers of creation? It's the same with the actual writing. If I'm on a roll and I write a great sentence, I just stop and go and play some Fifa 08, stuffing my face with chocolate between passes. Why don't I go for the next sentence? Why do I feel the need to reward myself and pack up shop? Why why why why why?

Actually, I think I know. It's one of these two:

a. The idea is a newborn baby. You should wrap it up and put it in a cot and leave it for a bit. Same with the great sentence - that's you stretching to the limits of your abilities. Push any more and you'll pull a muscle. In your brain. Nasty.

b. I am a bone-idle bastard.

Lost in France

I hear in Paris they have a library dedicated to crime fiction. That's cool, right? Another cool thing is that they are having a festival of crime in May, where the intersection of the criminal and book worlds will be celebrated in all its glory. Can you guess where this is going? Yes, a third cool thing: your humble narrator will be at this festival. Apparently humour in crime is my bag and I'll be taking part in a panel on this subject, along with a couple of TBAs.

So, if you're in Paris on the 16th May, check us out.

You know, anyone would think I'm living on the continent. It's three years since I did any kind of event in the UK. I am a literary exile, condemned to tread only foreign soil until I can write a book that pleases MI5. Maybe STAIRWAY TO HELL will be that book? Ah, fuck MI5. Do you know the people that really matter? Critics? Don't make me laugh. Readers? Well, maybe a bit... but that's not the answer. It's CI5. Bodie and Doyle. And there is NOT A CHANCE they would have disapproved of any trilogy of books with one of these babies as a major character.

Saying all that, I do quite like foreign soil. Especially France. They have really nice soil, very dark and peaty. Plus they have loads of beer. I'm sorry, Cowley... you can grin all you like, I'm staying here, in this bar. Got my Leffe. Got my chips and mayonnaise. Got my table footy. Got my soil. I'm staying. I'm finishing my coffee. Enjoying my coffee.

Car crash cover

Second edition (or something) of Deadfolk released in France this week. I just love this cover. And check out that "Policer". That's Plim and Jonah!

Trolleyed

Check out the cover of LE ROI DU MACADAM, published in France today by Serie Noire/Gallimard. (Anglophones, this is KING OF THE ROAD... not some other book I wrote called "King of the Tarmac".) Love the cover. I do like a bit of suburban detritus in the morning.

Big thanks to Thierry Marignac for translating, and Gallimard for publishing.