I
understood I’d be part of a journalistic cabal of bibliophiles, those who
comment upon literature’s darkest avenue, the Crime and Thriller Genre, which
now is one of the most important fiction sectors in Great Britain’s
publishing world.
Like
many, I find comfort in the vicarious thrills offered by reading works of dark
fiction, be it Horror, Crime and Mystery and my favourite sector of Thriller Fiction,
what is referred to as “The
Weird”. When one has to manage the stresses and the mundane tasks of
life, namely our work, and our personal / family lives, reading disturbing and
thought-provoking fiction from the safety of your reading chair can be
comforting for it provides entertainment as well as making us think. It also is
helpful corralling the mind’s swirl of existential thoughts, for it calms.
Sometimes we have to ‘fight fire, with
fire’. It also provides distraction, a diversion from reality, and the most
engrossing thriller-writing can put the reader into a trance, as they inform as
well put our own problems into context.
I
think Graham Greene was right when he noted in Ways to Escape –
“Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all
those who do not write, compose, or paint can manage to escape the madness,
melancholia, the panic and fear which is inherent in a human situation.”
The
upcoming lunch generously organised by Patsy Irwin was a veritable who’s who,
of thriller critics, as joining us in The Den, a private basement room in
Black’s Club in Dean Street, Soho, London were, Marcel Berlins, Joe Haddow,
John
Williams, Barry
Forshaw, Nic Clee, Mike Ripley,
Jake
Kerridge, Mark Sanderson
and Adrian
Muller (who had a taken on a John Malkovich / Hercule Poirot look). It
is always a pleasure to meet up with my colleagues many who I have known for more
years than it seems possible. This includes the surreal
coincidence that writer and literary commentator Mark Sanderson and
I attended the same primary school in Cheshire, back in the 1970s. Mark and I
discovered this surreal twist of fate, of coincidence a decade ago, at a
literary dinner hosted by HarperCollins, an event that still amuses me, and is
recorded HERE.
On
arrival at Blacks Club, Sanderson greeted me with a mischievous smile, pressing
an envelope excitably into my palm. As I opened it, I laughed. It was a cast
list of a musical play entitled “The
Wraggle Taggle Gypsies” from our old school from 1974, when we would have
been 11 years old. It was a photocopy that Mark had found lurking in his flat,
a memory I had long since forgotten, a fragment of recollection of days now
long since passed. Mark was keen to mention he was one of the main cast
members, while I was lower down that cast list, in terms of pecking order (being
an un-named gypsy musician). It appeared I played an instrument called a Psaltery,
but my memory was blank. It would take the encyclopaedic knowledge of Barry
Forshaw to explain that a Psaltery was an ancient stringed instrument,
as none of us knew what it was, let alone how to pronounce it.
Many
of us had gathered last month, as guests of Quercus Publishing’s Jon Riley,
Hannah Robinson and Sophie Ransom
to celebrate the launch of Peter May’s remarkable political thriller The Man with No
Face by Peter May. As ever, this award-winning writer, Peter May had
hit the UK top ten straight on release.
I
was also delighted to learn that Barry Forshaw has a new work Crime
Fiction: A Reader’s Guide coming out before year-end, as he shared
the cover with us. And as this lunch was a celebration of Thriller Writing, it
was apt to have the authority that is Mike
Ripley on-hand with his witty commentary on the genre. For an
amusing as well as an informative look at the history
of the British Thriller, Ripley’s KISS KISS, BANG BANG is a beautiful
book a real labour of love from HarperCollins
– more info HERE
So
once the greetings were warmly exchanged, we took to our seats. I found myself
sitting beside John
Williams, and the radio and events broadcaster Joe Haddow. I always
enjoy the company of Haddow, as he is a very funny guy, life enhancing with an
uncommon wit. He made me laugh when he remarked that I have a great face for
Radio.
I
was eagerly anticipating this thriller lunch as I wondered about Tom Bradby’s
return to Publishing with his Novel Secret
Service, an extraordinary Geopolitical Thriller which was due
out on the 30th of May. It is a book I relished, as it provided me
vicarious entertainment while it made me think deeply, as I noted in my review -
It’s been a decade since Tom Bradby
published a novel. He’s been busy screenwriting and working as a broadcast
journalist for the British news network ITN, but I am delighted to report that
his latest novel SECRET SERVICE has been worth the wait, and the anticipation.
Secret Service is an international
thriller that has urgency straited throughout its prescient fusion of
geo-politics, and the personal lives of people caught in the shadows of those
events, the geo-politics of the world stage. It also casts a compassionate eye,
as it makes the reader think beyond what is presented, to uncover the reality
beneath the veneer that masks our lives and the lives of others, namely the
powerful, as well as those we love, and those we fear.
Read
the full review of Tom Bradby’s Secret Service from Shots HERE
Many
only know of Tom Bradby for his political journalism, as he is a familiar face
on TV with the news network ITN, and that background is evident in the urgency
of his prose in Secret Service. I first became aware of his work in 2005, when
he was interviewed my friend, the editor of The Rap Sheet, Jeff
Peirce featured at January Magazine, from the extraordinary writer
and literary commentator Linda Richards. I would warn you, never play poker
with Richards as I discovered during the 2014 Boucheron late night Poker
Tournament in Long Beach. Linda Richards is very good, perhaps too good, even
when playing poker blind-folded.
You
can access Jeff Peirce’s interview with Tom Bradby, archived HERE
At
one point, Mike
Ripley and I found ourselves seated with Political Journalist /
Broadcaster Tom Bradby. During our conversation we got talking about
thriller writing and of thriller fiction. The conversation got around to who we
read, and who we consider ‘the point men
and women’ in thriller writing. I mentioned to Bradby that Mike Ripley and
I attended Philip Kerr’s funeral last year [which I detailed HERE].
Bradby’s eyes grew animated as he told us that he was a huge, huge fan of
Philip Kerr’s Bernie Gunther novels. He’d read them all, some, several times,
and then the three of us talked, and we talked, and we talked until we could
talk no more about those Philip Kerr novels, those treasures that featured a
former German Soldier turned Detective, called Gunther.
Tom
Bradby considers those Bernie Gunther novels, like many of us, as sitting at
the high table, shoulder to shoulder with the masters of the crime and thriller
genre.
I
told Bradby that I was apprehensive as well as eager (as counter intuitive as
that may appear), to crack the spine of METROPOLIS, that final novel from Philip
Kerr, the one that sat at the edge of my office desk, the one I wrote about HERE
Later,
I took particular delight in talking with Robert Goddard, a prolific novelist
who’s work I have grown fond of, very fond. I was first introduced to his work
by Patsy Irwin, many years ago, though it would take a chance encounter at Theakstons’
Crime Writing Festival 2017, that my enthusiasm reached the heights
it has today. It was during that event I learned that Robert Goddard was
penning what could be termed a ‘full-on’ high concept thriller entitled ‘Panic
Room’. Of course, some would consider his earlier work ‘thrilling’, and is
indeed just that, however there has been intense debate over the years
as to what exactly a thriller
novel is. Ian Fleming suggested “one simply has to turn the pages” for a
novel to be considered a thriller. Last year the judges at Ian Fleming
Publications selected Attica Locke’s extraordinary Bluebird Bluebird as the thriller
novel of 2018, for the Crime Writers Association’s CWA Ian Fleming Steel Dagger
– Click HERE
for more information. David
Morrell, one of the co-founders of International Thriller Writers inc, gave
a more nuanced definition of what defines a novel as a thriller, and his essay
can be downloaded as a .pdf HERE from
Crimespree Magazine.
Anyway, I was
intrigued and read Panic Room, agreeing with Keith Miles, who reviewed it for
Shots Magazine, stating -
“Clever plotting, meticulous
detail, all too credible characters and a wry sense of humour make this another
classic Goddard novel”
Read the full review HERE
Then after putting the book down, as it was a
breathless read, and most assuredly fitted into both Ian Fleming, as well as
David Morrell’s definition of what denotes a novel as being a thriller; the invitation
to lunch arrived in my door. It was one that made me recall a thriller lunch
from last year that Patsy Irwin and Alison Barrow had organised with writers Belinda
Bauer, Joseph Knox and Robert Goddard.
It was an excellent lunch, which I recorded HERE
So we come to what Robert Goddard has in store
for his readers later this coming month, a rather intriguing novel entitled ONE
FALSE MOVE, which I read and closed my review with
Robert Goddard’s affable and
seemingly simplistic novel, like that game ‘Go’ (that forms the spine of this
novel) is anything but simple. One
False Move is literary Morphine,
dangerously addictive but offering a distraction from the darkness of this
world, by holding a black mirror to its surface, to reveal a darker truth.
Highly recommended, as Robert
Goddard is what we term a ‘writer’s
writer’, and for readers that
translates into literary gold. He has produced a thought-provoking novel that
thrills vicariously as the pages turn like the moves in a game of ‘Go’, played
by a grandmaster at the height of his powers.
Read the full review at Shots Magazine HERE
Over coffee I was able to have a good talk with
Robert, and one of the themes he explores in his work “Identity” - who we
really are, and who are the people that interact with us, beneath their surface
veneer, the faces and persona they show the world, with small talk.
I had told Robert an amusing story, relating to
the last time I was with Patsy Irwin. It was on Tuesday 18th of
September last year. I had driven into London to celebrate the launch of Martin
Edwards’ extraordinary Gallows Court, a change in direction for this writer,
a man also known for his remarkable knowledge of the Golden
Age of Crime Fiction. Though many of us consider ourselves well-read, few
can match Martin Edwards’ knowledge of Crime and Mystery novels of the past.
Anyway, the invitation for Martin Edwards’
Gallows Court came from the publishers Head
of Zeus, but when I arrived at the venue, a basement in a North London Waterstones
Bookshop, I was puzzled as I could not recognise any of the faces seated in the
crowd. My confusion was relieved a tad, when from the corner of my eye I
spotted Patsy Irwin, seated in the centre of the gathering. She was waving at
me, indicating for me to come over and take the vacant seat next to her.
“Fancy seeing you here” Patsy said as I took my seat,
a little confused as I could not recognise anyone else seated at the book
launch, so I echoed Patsy’s sentiment.
“Yes, fancy seeing you here” I said and then we engaged in
small talk, about the last time we met; a few weeks ago, with Lee
Child during Theakstons’ crime-writing festival (Harrogate), and the early days
when she worked in publicity with Lee, and how he had become one the world’s
greatest thriller writers.
And so, we continued our small talk, as I was
still confused why none of my crime-fiction reviewing colleagues were present,
and I noticed Patsy was also looking at me with a slightly confused eye.
“I didn’t think this launch
would of interest to you” she said.
“Well I wasn’t aware that you
were a fan of Martin Edwards’ writing either.” I said in reply, especially as
it appeared peculiar to me why someone as senior as Patsy Irwin, in PenguinRandomHouse
would be attending a book launch of a rival publisher, Head of Zeus.
But as we both deploy a British sensibility, and gentile manners, we just smiled and carried on talking, even if we were both a little
confused. As Patsy talked to someone seated behind us, my confusion grew as I listened
into the conversation. Patsy and this unknown stranger were talking about
Barack Obama. Oh well I thought, at least I wasn’t seated among Trump
supporters.
I picked up my cell-phone and called Martin
Edwards. His phone went straight to voicemail. Glancing at my watch, I saw it
was fifteen minutes before he would welcome everyone to the launch of Gallows
Court, so it was unsurprising that his phone was off. I tried Ayo Onatade and
then Mike Stotter, and again their phones went to Voicemail. I grew anxious and
pulled out my invitation, a printed email from Suzanne Sangster of Head of
Zeus, and checked, I was at the correct venue as well as on the right date.
When Patsy turned back, I asked her about this book launch unfolding the email
invitation. She furrowed her brow and said, this is the correct venue, Waterstones,
and the date is right, but she was here
for a book launch for Transworld’s publication of Becky
Dorey-Stein’s ‘From the Corner of the Oval Office’, The author was Barack Obama’s
stenographer she added “I
was wondering why you were here, as I didn’t think this book would interest you,”
and she roared laughing.
My cell-phone chirped. It was
Mike Stotter, asking where I was, as the Martin Edwards’ book launch was about
to start. I told him I was in a basement room, in a Waterstones bookshop in
North London.
He replied laughing “no you idiot, did you not get the email?”
“What
email?”
“The
email from Head of Zeus on the change of venue. It’s at Hatchards in Piccadilly.”
“Cack.
I’m in the wrong place” I said to Patsy, and passed my
apologies as I discreetly left the throng of guests who wanted to listen to Barack
Obama’s stenographer.
I said farewell to Patsy and
briskly headed off to Hatchards in the Westend.
I managed to catch the close of
Martin Edwards’ launch, and get my copy of Gallows Court signed. My surreal
tale of being at Barack Obama’s stenographer’s book launch in error, brought
much amusement to Martin Edwards, Mike Stotter, Ayo Onatade and many others
present, especially Simon Brett, who roared laughing.
I later learned that Suzanne
Sangster had sent an email to everyone regarding the change in venue, but I
must have assumed it was purely a reminder email, and not read it.
Robert Goddard was amused, and
said he also had a case of being in the wrong place, however how his tale ended
somewhat differently, somewhat perplexingly.
Robert recalled going to a house
party a little while ago. He and his wife had arrived a little late, and it was
dark as they made their way to the house. At the door a teenage girl let them
in, and then went back upstairs leaving Robert and his wife downstairs with a
clutch of other guests. They soon found themselves exchanging small talk and
banter, as they sipped their wine glasses. Robert mentioned to his wife that he
didn’t seem to recognise anyone at the party. She told him they should mingle,
and so they did. After a lengthy conversation with another couple, where the weather
was discussed in inordinate detail (as only the English can, making conversations
about the weather into an art form), a older woman appeared and started
chatting to them, and after more discussion on the temperate climate in
Cornwall, she inquired as to how they had met. At first Robert explained how he
had meet his wife, and the context of their meeting, all those years ago. Robert
noticed (as novelists do) that there appeared a slight air of confusion in the
woman’s eyes.
“No.”
She said quietly, and with a hint of impatience. “No, I meant how WE met.” Her
eyes pointed to her husband (who came over to join his wife), and then to Robert’s
wife.
“I’m
not sure?” Robert replied.
“In
fact, I don’t think we’ve ever met before.” Robert’s
wife added.
The woman looked at her husband,
who now had the same confused expression as she did.
“So
exactly who are you?” She asked, her irritation now unrestrained.
Robert introduced himself and his
wife, at which point the woman reached over and took their wine glasses and
asked them to leave.
It appeared that by genuine error,
Robert and his wife had got the address wrong for the party they were attending.
And by sheer fluke, had knocked on a door of a house that had a party, occurring
at the same time, but further down the street from the Goddard’s intended
destination.
We laughed, and Robert said
though amusing, he found the woman reaching for their wine glasses somewhat perplexing.
He had told her that he had made a genuine mistake, and assumed she’d laugh with
him, but instead she took back the wine, but did so in a somewhat angry manner,
showing them the door.
“It’s
as if the woman assumed, we were professional gate-crashers”
Robert said, as we both laughed at the anecdote, and I thought of my own mix-up
at the Barack Obama’s stenographer’s book launch.
Soon
it was time to pass my thanks to Patsy Irwin and Becky Short of Transworld
Publishing for their excellent lunch discussing thriller fiction.
And
we would indicate that it is well worth uncovering Tom Bradby’s return to
thriller novels with SECRET SERVICE – more information HERE;
Robert Goddard’s thought provoking ONE
FALSE MOVE and for the Thriller Reader, I’d heartily steer you toward Mike Ripley’s
wonderful labour of love, KISS KISS BANG BANG, more information HERE
or the equally insightful work AMERICAN NOIR from Barry Forshaw HERE.
Photos
© 2019 Ali Karim
