Not seen TBL?

For the very few people in the world who have not seen THE BIG LEBOWSKI, here is the short version (go on, press play - it's only two minutes):

Ayup Flower

Rest in peace Charlie Williams, former footballer, comedian, and quiz show host who died last night aged 78. As far as I know he got a lot of stick for sending up his colour in his comedy routines, but at least he managed to break down the barriers and get himself up there (footy pitch, stage, and screen). No mean achievement for a black man in England at the time.

People (especially older people) have often said "Ayup flower" to me when they heard my name. At first I thought they were just demented, but then I found out about my famous namesake and his catchphrase. The guy had quite a life!

Stepping up to the plate

I normally keep sports out of this blog but, shit, the world needs to recognise Clinton Woods, who defended his IBF World Light-Heavyweight title against Glen Johnson tonight.

I have to say that Woods is just not a talented fighter, IMHO. Roy Jones is pure talent. Joe Calzaghe, Floyd Mayweather Jr. But there's another way to win, and Clinton, at 34, finally fucking KNOWS it. People talk about boxers being tough. Tonight, Clinton demonstrated what tough was. It's not glamourous. It's about getting beat the first time you meet a guy, getting the shit kicked out of you the second time, and looking like going the same way on time #3. Round 9, it was rubber legs and game over. Surely?

But no - final three rounds, that's what tough is. Jesus, talk about facing demons.

The Yorkshire lad has got HEART.

Hardback at last!

Check out this little Italian stallion:

This is MORTACCI, the Italian edition of DEADFOLK which will be out over there on September 12th (or so I'm told) from Baldini Castoldi Dalai. Believe me - it is a thing of beauty. And it's in hardback! I love the Mustang on the front (which, as the whole world knows, is the American version of the Ford Capri). I just wish I knew what it all means. Or some of it. Or even just the title. Hang on, I'll go look that up... Erm, it says it means "Mortacci". That don't really help. Mind you, if you plugged "Deadfolk" into an English to Italian dictionary you'd probably get "Deadfolk".

Anyway, it's fucking great!

Oh, and Italian readers: welcome to Mangel.

PS: Credit to Massimo Bocchiola for translating the thing.

Hooligan Film

Indie filmmakers Freefall Productions are going to make a short film of my story SWEET AND TENDER HOOLIGAN next year, with me to script. It will rock! Mind you, the story won't see light of day until early 2008, which is the pub date of PAINT A VULGAR PICTURE, the Serpent's Tail anthology for which it was commissioned. That is a long time indeed.

Separated at birth

Well done to Steve McLaren and the boys for delivering us a nice result over the... (*ahem*) "European Champs". Deliverance indeed. However, I'm still not sold on John Terry. He's a good captain and all but... has anyone ever seen him near a banjo?

Wayne Carr

Warning: not for old grannies.

Two fingers to you

Check out Jeremiah Palecek's 1 Painting Every Day project. Look out for the "Half ram half human reading".

New Shite Has Come to Lit

Old skool readers of this blog will remember Keith and Danny, the occasional guest bloggers I used to have on here. You might like to know that they are still out there, and they have set up presences on MySpace. Keith's is here, and Danny's here. Whatever you do, do not feed them.

No Thank You, Sir

As we all know, one of the world's oldest and most burning questions is: "Just how did they make the video to 'Jump In My Car' by The Hoff?"

Well, now we know.

In other news, erm...

Business

As I've said before, we writers need to earn a buck any way we can, which includes soiling our delicate hands with the act of selling. My own efforts in this area are in conjunction with Amazon, and together we try to flog books via my site. Here is my latest sales report:

Total shipped to customer this quarter: 0.00
Referral fee this quarter: 0.00
Credit referral fee / subscription bonuses: 0.60
Total Referral fee: 0.60
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
ASIN Title Fee % Price Qty Fees
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Marketplace - Books
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
1852428511 Deadfolk 0.0% 0.50 1 0.00

As you can see, a lot of room for growth there, which is always good to have. But what I'm wondering is what cheap bastard paid 50p for Deadfolk? Fifty flipping pence!? That book is worth NEARLY TWICE that. And a copy signed by me is worth NEARLY AS MUCH. Erm, let me just check that...

In other news, it is hot.

Harrah-gut

Which is how you're meant to pronounce Harrogate, so I was told. Being a sensible person I totally ignored it and went on pronouncing it "Harrogate". Anyway, I had a great time, if you don't count the drive home when our way was blocked by a major RTA just in front of us, and some very bad stuff going on there. But the fest itself? A fine one.

The reason why I (strictly small-time) was there at all was because I was lucky enough to do an event a couple of years ago at the Birmingham Book Fest alongside Mark Billingham (large-fry) who was this year's organising committee presidente, and he is a generous as hell guy and man of his word. Where this got me was on a panel called "Unique Voices", which I guessed was the four writers who didn't fit anywhere else. Namely John Connolly, Stella Duffy, Shane Maloney, moi, and the urbane Marcel Berlins in the chair. It was a good panel and I enjoyed it (depsite the heat), but anyone who was there will know that it got kind of diverted down a strange and unnecessary side-road that didn't make much sense. Well, maybe everyone there wouldn't think that, but I sure as hell did, and I suppose it must have come across from my comments, when I could shoe-horn a word in. But I guess it's also true that strange side-roads, when driven down with enough shouting and swearing and sweat, make good entertainment. So there's that. Like I say, it was a good panel and I was grateful to be on it. It just could have been more interesting if it had stayed a little calmer and under control, and I knew what the hell people were talking about.

Most of the rest of my time there was spent (accompanied by my wife Lisa) in the bar, drinking and talking shit with God knows who. I got there about 2pm Friday and was gone before 24 hours were up. This isn't because I didn't like the fest, but because, well, we've got obligations elsewhere, youngun-wise. But I don't think I could have lasted anyway. Some of those guys, they're on the solid drink and yak from opening night to closing morn, and I don't know how it's done. The drinking I can go with, but how can you talk so much? I like to be sparing with my words. I'm like one of them red indians who don't like having their photo taken because it takes away some of their spirit, so they demand 5 dollars. I'm like that, but no one has yet paid me 5 dollars or even 5 cents (maybe I should ask in sterling next time). But hey, there are some entertaining blokes and birds out there, I'll say that.

As for star spotting, fuck that. Ian Rankin was around most of the time but what are you supposed to say? "Hi Ian, er... Can I polish yer shoes, sir?" What? I thought I saw PD James at one point, sitting on a table with a bottle of plonk in one hand and a fag in the other, but Keiran Wiggins told me I was wrong. (I'm still not sure.) And also I thought I saw David Hasselhoff, but I see him everywhere so don't worry about that.

One final thing: crime writers are, by and large, way cool people. And crime readers too. I never really understood conventions before I went along as a writer, but I do now.

People who I met there, it was great chatting to you. I don't recall one bad conversation (from my side of it anyway).