I first heard about Red Dwarf in the place where you learnt about most of what was destined to become your favourite flavour of escapism – the playground. I’m pretty sure I actually started watching it when series IV came out. That was definitely my first proper series. Laughing with my friends at the thought of Lister morphing into a ridiculous mini Robocop clone, long before any of us had ever seen the regular sized Robocop. Hattie Hayridge as Holly. Kryten’s first attempts at lying and insulting people and purposefully mis-naming fruit. The Cat revealing his ultimate crush was himself. The ironic injuries of the justice field. Ace Rimmer smoking kippers. And let’s not forget the dreaded space mumps.
Read MoreHistory is a funny old thing. It’s basically just the road we’ve already travelled along, but every step of that journey can still have a huge influence on where we’re going and, without ever turning around, we do seem to have a dangerous capacity for retracing some of our very worst detours. The past is always there, waiting over our shoulder, ready to be reflected in the rear view mirror. It should really come with a warning, ready for when you decide to take a peek. Maybe something about some objects appearing closer than they actually are. Workplaces, pubs, and homes are, after all, crammed to the rafters with people declaring ‘it can’t be that long since such and such happened’.
Read MoreI think it’s best we start with a confession – I’m pretty sure I’ve approached Benjamin Myers all wrong. I did not start at the beginning and, if you take the first book of his I read as I starting point, then I did not even read what I have read in right order.
My first experience of Benjamin Myers came through Twitter. Upon the release of The Gallows Pole, I kept seeing the cover for it everywhere and, yes, I did indeed judge that book. I judged it to look very interesting indeed. There was something captivating about the stark, retro design. There was also something 70s heavy metal infused about it, which was an impression doubtlessly inspired by the title. It felt like something I needed to read.
Read MoreThere are certain things you don’t want to see when you’re considering writing a book review. A death threat from the author would be quite high up that list. As would a list of previous reviewers of their work who’ve all disappeared in ‘mysterious circumstances’. Another red flag is when the first page of that book holds a glowing quote from Stephen Fry.
‘What’s the point?’ you find yourself wondering, seeing his eloquent little summation laid out for all the world to see. ‘Fry got here first.’
Read MoreThere are two types of people in the world and they’re living in your head. They vary depending on the person they’re inside. If you’re trying to stay healthy, then one person will definitely being trying to convince you to keep on the diet, whilst the other one is saying surely you’ve been good for long enough to earn at least one treat. If you’re trying to focus on getting something done then you know one of those people in your head is going to be telling you that there’s no harm in taking just one little night off.
Read MoreAs of last Sunday, all of my work previously published by Kensington Gore is no longer available on Amazon. Or anywhere else, for that matter.
If you’ve previously bought yourself any of those novellas, collections or novels then, first of all, I’d like to say thank you. Secondly, here’s a piece of good news for you: you’re now the proud owner of what we can officially label a first edition.
Read MoreI hate starting novels. Short stories, when they’re feeling generous and playful, can pop into being like you’re opening a bottle of champagne. Or, as is more my experience, they can budge into being like opening the stubborn lid of a fairly decent jar of coffee.
Maybe a better metaphor for this involves cars. Starting a short story can be like starting a car. The idea comes to you with some sense of theme and ending, if you’re lucky and you’re not trying to ignore the deadline breathing down your neck and asking why you’ve not got your shoes on yet.
Read MoreThere’s magic in a bookshop. A palpable, near hypnotic, almost blissful sense of wonder. Which can, if I let my guard down, led to me leaving with a pile of books and my wife pointing out the restricting mathematics of shelf space. I suppose it’s fair to say it primarily exists in the second-hand variety of the bookshop. First hand bookshops are very nice, don’t get me wrong. All those uncracked spines. All that shiny furniture. The sale tables grouping together all the books that're now the cornerstones for TV shows or movies. The recognisable brand coffee shops with free wi-fi and the illusion that their chairs might be comfortable. Still, there’s something antiseptic about those places. Something clinical, in a private healthcare sort of way.
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