Is there a Ralph's around here?

Fame

If you google the word "lager", I come up 14th on the list (after "Freedom Organic Lager" and "Lesbian And Gay Employment Rights"). What is fame if not that? Is it possibly this?:

If you google the word "fags", I come up 17th (after godhatesfags.com and biggestfagsever.com).

Fame, I think you will agree.

What a load of cack

...I wrote on here yesterday. All I meant to say was "Oops, I've fucked up another old book". But I somehow turned into Howard Moon.

KILLER OF AGED PAPERBACKS

Rigid and faded, they stand the test of time. For decades they shunt from box to shelf to box to shelf, never read but always hanging onto those sepia pages. Sometimes they are taken out and looked at, but always they are put back again. Until I come along.

I, killer of aged paperbacks.

A fresh kill: a fifty year old Bantam issue of THE LENIENT BEAST by Fredric Brown. The spine tells me its history: if it has ever been read before it was decades ago, and very carefully. I turn the pages, sucking the life out of them. The spine starts weakening. Halfway through and the pages are hanging on for dear life, little adhesive fingers too dry to grip for long.

No one will read them after me. Sad in a way, to reach the end of the line after so long. Should I leave them alone... untouched, unread and intact for another fifty years of shelf life? No, I make them live again. One last hurrah before decomposition. I am not the killer of aged paperbacks, I am their saviour.

What? Books are inanimate objects?

CADS

Have you heard of Crime And Detective Stories? It's a long-running print mag for the true connoisseur of all things crimey and detectivey, with a rather violent nod towards the more "classic" end of the market. Shrugging off that violent nod, like Jonah Lomu taking on England, Bob Cornwell gamely interviews yours truly in the current issue. And he does it with considerable aplomb. Mr Cornwell, of course, is the man responsible for the famous (in my house at least) Fags and Lager review quote:

"300-odd pages of squalor, f-, s- and c- words, extreme violence and drugs, the odd hint of perversity, monstrous sly humour and all with no redeeming social message whatsoever. Whilst through it all strides the probing intelligence of Royston Blake. What more could you possibly want?"

Belgium

Hey, are you going to be hanging around the Belgium area in early March? Pop along to the Brussels Book Fair, where I will be doing a panel type affair on all things noir and crime on 6th March, sitting alongside fellow Serie Noirian Antoine Chainas, among others. Other notable guests include Russell Banks and "Le Chat". Around that time Gallimard/Serie Noire will be publishing DES CLOPES ET DE LA BINOUSE (Fags and Lager, translated by Thierry Marignac), so everything is cool on the Continent. (Unless you are Marc Stevens, in which case things are very uncool.)

Gitanes and Kronenbourg

Here is the cover of the French edition of FAGS AND LAGER, which will be out from Serie Noire/Gallimard in March. Dig that plastic cup!

Ever wonder what happened to the Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers?

Here's your answer.

This blog

I sometimes wonder if I am doing this blogging thing wrong. Maybe if I was doing it right I would talk about every book I read, film I saw or album I listened to. Perhaps I would tell you more about my day-to-day writing life and the ups and downs of the publishing world. Maybe I would expand more on the comic work I am doing, or the screenplays.

But somehow I don't feel inclined to.

Don't take it personally. If I met you in a pub (or anywhere) I would tell you it all, if you wanted to hear it. I don't hide anything when I can see the whites of a person's eyes (as long as they aren't too close together). But I cannot see you. Not only can I not see you, but you're not there. There is no "you" with blogging. Blogging is like going to a prominent place in the High Street, blindfolding yourself and then just shouting. I don't know who is listening. You could be a connoisseur of the Mangel books. Or you could be one of these people who find this blog by searching for the phrase "make her gag".

Then there's the lengthy opinion pieces that I could be doing. I could be railing against the lack of creative rope given to filmmakers. I could be whinging about how bookshops used to have soul (in their buying choices) and didn't see their wares as product so much as cultural artifact. I could be laying into the multitude of authors who write stories with nice, safe round edges and run a mile from dangerous looking sharp angles. I could be explaining to you how much I hate Katy Melua. But there's a reason why I don't.

I am not a critic, a social commentator or any other kind of journalist.

I am a writer of fiction.

So, thank you for continuing to check this blog, dear anonymous reader. And I swear I will have some more fiction for you before the decade is out. In the meantime, don't listen to Katy Melua. And if you're going to see I AM LEGEND, don't read the book first.

Charlie Williams - voice of reason

Hi, this is David Hasselhoff disguised as Christopher Lillicrap, guest-blogging for Charlie Williams. I just wanted to applaud Charlie's earlier post about the Pogues and Fairytale of New York, which has resulted in BBC Radio 1 going back on their censorship decision and reverting to the original version of the song, which includes the words "faggot", "slut", and "cunt". Charlie deserves a lot of credit for wading in on this row and bringing home the right result. You should go out and buy his books as a gesture of gratitude.

You cheap lousy homosexual

I mean, for fuck's sake. Presumably they deem it OK to say "you're an old slut on junk?" But fret not, you can get it in all its terrifyingly offensive glory here:

Could Have Been a Contender

Great fly-on-the-wall thing about a journeyman boxer on Setanta last night (with the above title). Tony Booth has been fighting professionally for 17 years, with 50 wins out of 162 fights. He takes fights on a day's notice, and tries to provide for his wife and kids through fighting alone. Yet he doesn't train (quite clearly), drinks like a fish and is not bothered about losing (on points). Watching him fight the young up-and-comers, there is no doubt he has the skill to have at least gone for a national title. But, as one of his pub mates says, "No one bothered with him." I found him very familiar. I also found him kind of heroic. I love characters like him. A journeyman (aka professional opponent) is way more interesting than a hyped up prospect surrounded by yes-men. I thought the filmmakers tried to insert some sadness into his depiction, but there really was none there. Pathos, but no sadness on his part.

Interesting to see the scalp of Omar Sheika on his record, who went on to have four world title fights and go the distance with Jeff Lacy, Markus Beyer, Eric Lucas and Glen Johnson (Joe Calzaghe knocked him out).

Watch it (in five parts):