Wednesday 30 November 2011

The Walkabouts - Travels in the Dustland

The Walkabouts
Travels in the Dustland
Glitterhouse GRCD 731

I first saw the Walkabouts perform in 1986 – I’m pretty sure it was at a bar named the 5-0 on 15th Avenue East in Seattle. They were a young band then, but the potential and the deep level of artistry was already there. Seven years later they were my first interview assignment when I started writing for The Rocket, and I couldn’t have been happier; I’d been a fan for a while then. Over the years I came to know them and develop a huge respect and love of their work. So, when talking to Chris Eckman a couple of years ago about his excellent Dirtmusic project, I asked if there’d ever be another Walkabouts album: “If we don’t do it soon it might never happen,” he answered, and the future didn’t look too good.

But they did do it, and Travels in the Dustland is more than worth the long wait. It’s still quite inimitably the Walks with the driving guitar rhythms and intensely poetic lyrics. But it also builds on what’s gone before. Since the 1990s there’s been a more cinematic sense to their music, but this time around it’s fully realised in what’s essentially a suite of songs, and that realisation is musical as well as lyrical. “My Diviner” and “The Dustlands” both have wide sweeps of sounds, but with minute attention to details that help add to that widescreen sensibility, such as the chamber orchestra on “The Dustlands” or the trumpet that echoes distantly towards the end of the piece to offer the idea of space. The band bring in a number of guests but use them very sparingly – this remains very much a group disc, one with a feel of the dry, parched Southwest rather than the lush green of their Northwest home. For musicians who don’t play together so often these days, they lock in together beautifully, and it’s a compliment to say you never notice the rhythm section; what they do is so exact, so perfect for each song that they don’t need to stand out. Chris Eckman and Carla Torgerson are still the front people, their voices complementing each other as they always have.

It’s an album with epic ambitions and performances to match. A number of the songs are more than six minutes long, but never seem stretched out, a series of connected vignettes that highlight Eckman’s literate lyrics, which still possess that Raymond Carver-esque quality of image and a story encompassed in a few words. What they’ve created isn’t a rock album, but a disc that’s ultimately American music, both in sound and words tugging at the fabric (both real and mythical) of the country, and it’s a brilliant piece of works.

Thursday 24 November 2011

Last Friday I discovered that my second novel, Cold Cruel Winter, had been named one of the Top 10 Mysteries of 2011 by Library Journal. At first I didn’t believe it, even when I saw it, and then I became almost speechless for the rest of the day. Next morning I had to check again, just to be certain it wasn’t all a dream. But the words were still there, still in the same order.
It’s one of those things writers dream about, but never expect to actually happen. When it does, when those dreams come true, shock sets in. It drains away slowly, but even six days later it doesn’t feel completely real.
Library Journal is one of the biggest publishing trade magazines in the US, aimed – as you’d guess – at libraries. It had given the book the kind of review I’d have killed to have, but I’d never expected more. Publishers Weekly had also raved about the book, and Kirkus and Booklist had both been very, very positive. The book has been better-received than I’d dared hope.
Since then I’ve been told by the publisher that Cold Cruel Winter has gone into a small second hardback printing. On January 1 it’ll be available globally as an ebook, and January 26 will see it out – in the UK, at least – as a trade paperback.
That’s the same day the follow-up, The Constant Lovers, appears. The official launch will come a week or so later at Leeds Central Library, and I’m flattered that they’ve agreed to host it. I’ve every reason to be grateful to Leeds Libraries, huge supporters of the books in the branches and reading groups. I’ve learned a great deal since The Broken Token appeared in 2010, and now I just want to make the most of that and write – and continue to learn – as much as possible.

Saturday 22 October 2011

Story Chain

My friend and fellow-writer Denyse Kirkby has had a touch inspiration. Her story chain – well, two story chains, really, one adult, one young adult, is an idea to build a global story where everyone can contribute.

I think it’s beautiful, and I urge everyone to take part.

Adult Story Chain

Young Adult Story Chain

I'll be popping over there later...please pass the word about it.

Monday 17 October 2011

Girl Singer

Girl Singer
Tell Her What She’s Won
It’s 15 long years since singer Carolyn Wennblom released her only album, Bees to the Honey, one of the most underrated delights to emerge from Seattle in the ‘90s. But now there’s a chance to rejoice as she’s back, this time as part of the band Girl Singer. And make no mistake, this really is a band, not a vehicle for her. The four-piece, which includes two members of the Walkabouts (and, interestingly the song Injury Wants An Encore sounds like it could have been taken from the Walks’ songbook), is a tight, thoughtful unit, which suits the moody, enigmatic material. Wennblom’s voice has taken on more of a velvet quality with time, but still wonderfully elusive, and the other players (plus a few guests) give the ideal framing for each one, whether it’s the soft drive that propels Start It All Over or the drone of the opener, Coming Around. It’s an album born of maturity, the emotions and situations never clear-cut, the emotions in shades of grey rather than black and white, the music considered. It is what it is, with no compromises for commerciality, but always deliciously listenable, and worth hearing again and again. The production, too, is beautifully realised, smooth without being slick, and great attention to details in the sound. The thing to hope for is that it’s not a decade and a half until we hear from them on disc again. One of 2011’s superb discs.

Saturday 8 October 2011

I've been remiss - forgive me

It’s been a while – far too long, really, since I posted on this blog. But that’s what happens when life intervenes and the need to make a living takes over.
But, for the novelist side of me, the last couple of weeks have been very interesting. The first reviews of Cold Cruel Winter have appeared in the US, and I’m quite staggered at how positive they’ve been. So far Publishers Weekly, Booklist and Kirkus Reviews had published them, the first a starred review that called the book “superb” while the other two were effusive in their praise. To complete the set, there’s one due from Library Journal at the start of November, and I’ve been told that, too, will be a starred review. So all the trade journals seem to like it, which is a very positive thing as I wait to hear whether the publisher wants to offer a contract for the fourth in the series.
While waiting with crossed fingers for that, I’ve been sent the cover for the third book in the Leeds series, The Constant Lovers, which will be out (in the UK at least) in hardback next January, the same time Cold Cruel Winter appears in trade paperback. In colour this time, and the moody shot of Kirkstall Abbey is lovely.
As if all that didn’t make for a basket full of joy, people have begun paying me for appearances, which has come as a shock, albeit a gratifying one. But the biggest and most exciting news on the appearance front is the duo – of sorts – with storyteller and musician Simon Heywood. It will receive its first outing at the end of November at Slaithwaite Civic Hall. The evening will be a mix of conversation, some readings from my books, some storytelling – from both of us – and some music that features in the books – mostly from Simon. We’ll be videoing the evening, and putting any worthwhile clips on YouTube. If it works the way we hope, then we’ll be touting it around to literary festival organisers (and anyone else who’ll have us).

Sunday 4 September 2011

Another Book Finished

The fourth book in the Richard Nottingham series, Come The Fear, is now finished and with the publisher, so it’s breath-holding time as I wait to see if they like it. It’s always a good feeling to complete something, especially when I feel good about it (and I certainly do with this one).
Equally interesting, at least to me, is the process that went into it. When I wrote The Broken Token, I more or less blundered my way through it. I had a story I wanted to tell, but equally, I wanted to evoke the Leeds of the 1730s, in feel if not always absolutely historically accurate; my idea was that if a reader emerged thinking they’d experienced the period, I was successful, and it seems many did. I had my characters, and that was about it. I hadn’t even considered it in terms of a series.
But a series it’s become, and I’d like to think my professionalism as a writer has increased with each book. A series is an odd duck. Characters recur. Some leave, some die, new ones enter, but there must be development, and character has always been a central facet. I’ve come to love Richard Nottingham and those around him. When someone important leaves or dies, I actually grieve a little. I feel I know these people intimately, and their lives expand (or contract) as the books develop.
There’s more planning these days. I still essentially have just a starting point and an ending, and the characters dictate what happens, as if I’m watching a movie, but I’ve come to take on the role of director a little more. I sketch out ideas, which may or may not be used, and I approach each book with a much stronger idea of the focus (For Come The Fear that’s very much the poor and dispossessed, even more than in previous books) and how I want to approach it.
These books have their own tone, often poetic among the dirt and debris and an 18th century city, and I’m not even sure how that came about, but it’s part of the book’s landscape, and something I actively consider as I’m writer. I make note of phrases, which either come to me or are inspired by reading others, and these will be inserted, often during the revision phase.
So, publisher willing, Richard Nottingham will be back (book three is due out early 2012). Meanwhile, I’m working on a couple of other projects, a mystery set in the Seattle music scene of the late 1980s (I spent 20 years in the city, quite a few of them making my living writing about music’; for once I’m writing what I know!) and another mystery, a Leeds setting again, but during the Civil War, in 1645. Quite a while ago I knew I wanted to write novels that covered the history of Leeds, and this is the first step outside my comfort zone, so we’ll see how it pans out…

Saturday 6 August 2011

Beginner's Guide to Scandinavia

Various Artists
Beginner’s Guide to Scandinavia

Nascente NSBOX079

This 3-CD budget collection really does make a very fair introduction to modern Scandinavian music – that’s Scandinavian in the inclusive sense, adding in Iceland, Finland, Greenland and the Faroe Isles. Each of the discs has a theme – Pop & Contemporary, Folk & Roots, and Jazz, Experimental & Atmospheres, but the borders between them are very fluid – Valrav could easily be in folk rather than pop, for instance, while Kimmo Phojonen might just as easily have fitted in Experimental. The pop disc is nowhere near as fluffy and vapid as it could have been, with Lars Demian sounding Serge Gainbourg weary on “Alkohol” and Cornelis Vresswijk channelling inspiration from Jacques Brel on “Samba For Pomperipossa.” There’s no Robyn, sadly, one of the best pop stars to come from the region, but there is the sweet acoustic indie sensibility of Pascal Pinon, the folktronica of Valravn and Pohjone’s barely contained strangeness.

The folk disc does offerme moderately well-known names – Värttinä, Maria Kalaniemi, Annbjørg Lien and a couple of others, But it does also shine a spotlight on others, such as Eivor, who deserve more fame for their adventurous work, as well as Morild, Hedningarna and BOOT. It goes some way to showing the range of Nordic folk music being produced, and the fact that roots music has enjoyed a real resurgence is some of the countries thanks to university degree programmes (Finland and Denmark), while other countries, like Norway and Iceland, are still lagging behind in delving into their folk traditions, at least on a more global stage.

But its disc three that holds the greatest adventures, the music that tends to defy easy definition. From Benny Anderssons Orkester (yes, the former ABBA man) to the joiking of Wimme and Mari Boine, it’s a lesson in possibilities. Nordic jazz has long show a different, more abstract, sensibility than its American counterpart, and you can hear that in the piece by Karl Seglem, where sax mixes in new, ornate ways with folk music (Gjermud Larsen draws from folk in similar ways, too), or the excerpt from the beautiful, breathless “Judas Bolero” from Lars Danielsson or the voice and ice instruments used by Terje Isungset. It’s perhaps apt to end with a pair of Samí tracks, a people whose nomadic ways have taken them across many of the Nordic countries. Both Mari Boine and Wimme have been relentlessly experimental, and the tracks here highlight that, as well as the innate beauty of the joik. Put all together, it’s a fascinating primer on Nordic music, one that stays clear of the main highways and focuses on the smaller, less-driven roads – but the scenery there is always more interesting.

Monday 20 June 2011

Treme

I’ve probably watched more television drama this year than in the past decade or more. But then again, I’ve been spoilt by what’s been on. First there was The Killing, the best thing, apart from folk music, to come out of Denmark, with some superb acting and writing. Then there was the discovery of Nurse Jackie. Billed as comedy, perhaps, but so much more. Then Spiral, the very tough French crime drama.

And now my new love is Treme. Set in post-Katrina New Orleans, it’s a beautifully crafted, very human show. And, of course, there’s plenty of that irresistible New Orleans music and cooking to spice it all up. Thanks to Lovefilm I’m catching up with season one, and enjoying every second. As a drama it does several unconventional things. The focus is on people rather than plot, a very refreshing change. And it’s people who are generally out on the margins rather than those with power. It’s also very rare inasmuch as most of the main characters are black and presented in a very three-dimensional way, not cheaply stereotyped.

The show’s evidently been panned (at least in the first season) for its lack of plot, but that’s part of its power. For most people there’s no straight line plot to life, and that makes it far more true to life. We’re usually made up of small incidents, and in this case, the big one, the hurricane, is always there as the backdrop, affecting the lives of everyone.

It also stands out as a superbly political show, sometimes explicitly, as in John Goodman’s character, and more often implicitly, as in the actions of the police, or the reportage of prison inmates left on the bridge without water, or finding another body. The show brings an awareness of the way the rich and the politicians have been trying to sell out the poor of New Orleans, sometimes quite literally, and the way the Bush administration failed so abysmally in its duties (no real surprise there). It’s a beautiful, unique city, unlike anywhere else in America. To see it portrayed with such honesty, as well as with such compassion, is a joy. It’s also some of the very best television around, and that’s something we need.

Tuesday 7 June 2011

Duo Jonsson Coudroy

Duo Jonsson Coudroy
Vind
Bemol Productions BEMO 045

Take a Swedish fiddler and a French melodeon player and you not only have an interesting combination of musical cultures, but a pair of very talented players and composers. There are some traditional pieces here, such as “Gavotte,” and they’re performed with real delicacy and imagination. But the true joy lies in the originals, which exhibit such wonderful sympathy and communication between the pair that it’s almost mystical. Far from seeming empty, they fill each others spaces and do some very interesting things with the music, as on the closer “Sjön,” which uses chordal drones in a highly unusual fashion to create a remarkable atmosphere. That, however, just typifies the approach of this pair, who impress by their willingness not only to play beautifully but also think outside the box. This is a disc that rewards frequent listenings and bodes well for the future.

Monday 6 June 2011

Mama Rosin with Hipbone Slim and the Kneetremblers

Mama Rosin with Hipbone Slim & the Kneetremblers
Louisiana Sun

In an ideal world people would hear this on an AM radio or through tinny speakers where there’s hardly any bass. It’s a real throwback to the raw 1950s days of rockabilly, swamp pop and outrageous Cajun music. Mix together a Swiss Cajun-punk band and some London rockabillies, don’t give them long to think about anything, and this is the result. It’s a glorious, fevered workout that time travels through the Southern states of America. There’s some early rock’n’roll – The Cat Never Sleeps and Paint The Town Red – plenty of swamp pop and Zydeco (even a rocked-out two-step), and even one track that could have come straight from the pen of Fats Domino. Add to that the title cut, which is a wild variant on California Sun (in French, naturellement) and you have one of the subversive delights of the year. When people talk about roots rock, this is what they really mean, as it doesn’t get any closer to the roots than this. You’ll need a cold beer or two just to listen to it.

Saturday 4 June 2011

On Gary Heffern And His New Music

It’s been my privilege to know Gary Heffern for quite a few years now. We met in Seattle, neither of us natives to the place, but it was where we called home. Gary is a superbly talented singer and songwriter with not only an ear for a good line, but also a way of putting it across, a gift of writing songs that truly resonate, that can catch a deep kernel of truth in a few words.

In the new Millennium Gary moved to Finland, the country of his birth, although I didn’t know that until I watched a very moving documentary about the circumstances of his leaving, and what happened to him in California (see http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iPIAux15da0 and it’s highly recommended viewing). He lives deep in the country there, where temperatures are bitter in winter and the nights can seem almost endless. But the dislocation of geography and culture has been good for him as an artist. His new album, Gary Heffern & Beautiful People, stands as one of his best. It’s very much as band album, as his new associates contribute tracks, and yet it hangs together as a whole, although (for me at least) it’s Gary’s work that stands out particularly. “Hand Of The Devil” is an epic opener, almost gospel (you can see the video at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8jLAhIx7iic ) and true redemption, building and building, simple yet ambitious and a true barn burner. “Religions (They Really Worry Me)” riffs on – well, you can figure that out – over a chord sequence that’s reminiscent of REM’s “Losing My Religion,” although whether that’s deliberate or not is hard to tell. As a song it’s certainly in the same class as its better known sibling.

There are touches of Gary’s punk past on “Here Comes The Government,” while “Everything Is Slowing Down” is a meditation on life in part, and the entropy that can come with living and the depressions that can occur, while “It’s Gonna Be A Cold Cold Winter” finds the chill of the heart and soul as well as the temperature.

Gary’s words are everyday poetry, finding the beauty or the heartbreak in the mundane and shining a spotlight on it. With the Beautiful People he has a band that’s made up of some crack musicians who are very sympathetic to what he’s trying to achieve. Finland has been good for his artistic maturity – the material here reaches an entirely new level to his previous work. And this is just the start. Seattle might be far away for us both, in many senses, but moving on can be worthwhile, too.

Wednesday 25 May 2011

A Chronicler Of Lives

Tomorrow sees the publication of my second novel, Cold Cruel Winter, a continuation of the Richard Nottingham series begin in The Broken Token. At the end of last week I received the first copy of it, a lovely hardback with a wonderful cover, enhanced by some delightful quotes pulled from reviews for the back cover.

When I began that first book I had no idea that it would become a series, that Richard Nottingham and John Sedgwick would take on lives of their own. But that’s exactly what’s happened. In my head they’re living, breathing people, and the Leeds of the 1730s is as alive to me as the city centre I sometimes walk around.

At this point I’m midway through book 4 – the third should appear early in 2012. It’s a decidedly odd feeling, popping into someone’s life periodically and describing what’s going on with them. But that, I guess, is just what a series of books hopes to achieve, to transport the reader back into this other world again and again.

I’m proud of Cold Cruel Winter. To me, the writing has improved greatly, it flows more easily, and there’s a good tale to tell. There’s more depth to the characters, as I know them more thoroughly, their voices are louder and more individual. They’ve all grown, as part of the real pleasure as a writer is describing that growth, those changes, how lives have moved on. I’m not the author so much as the chronicler of lives, and I’d have it no other way.

Thursday 12 May 2011

That Library Appearance...

There can be nothing quite so lovely, or so daunting, for an author as to talk to a group about his book. I felt flattered that Chapel Allerton library in Leeds had had all the tickets for my appearance there snapped up, and it was a good crowd sitting there. I talked. They asked questions (after an initial hesitation). Some of them, in the reading group there, had already read The Broken Token. Others hadn’t, so it was a no spoilers situation.

Two members of the library staff remembered my mother, an avid library user until her death, and one even recalled my father. That, perhaps, was the most gratifying thing of all for me, that sense of continuation. Plus the chance to walk around the old neighbourhood (even with blisters on my heels on aching feet from a pair of Doc Marten shoes that didn’t fit as well as they should). Old home week – or afternoon, at least.

As the icing on a delicious cake, a woman arrived bearing a tipstaff or cudgel from the period. It’s a lovely object, dated (apparently) 1719. It might be ceremonial, no one knows. She doesn’t even know how it ended up in her family, but having the chance to hold it gave me a real connection to Richard Nottingham. That was a magical moment for me.

There were great questions that required long answers, even if my voice was giving out towards the end. And, once it was over, they descended on me to buy copies. I’d taken 12 and could have sold more. Always nice, and it more than paid for my train fare and dinner (with a friend and her daughter) beforehand.

The only downside was time spent in the old St. Matthew’s graveyard, now a neglected and overgrown tangle. I know there are some fantastic old graves there, it just seems such a pity when, with a little effort, they could be on show to everyone, and people remembered.

Friday 6 May 2011

On Libraries...And More

It’s been a little while since I blogged, partly because of hard work and partly because of a much-needed break in sunny Devon (and it was gloriously sunny, too, with the sea right at our door. Well, 30 yards away).

Cold Cruel Winter
appears later this month. The first two chapters are up on ScribD, there’s an audio excerpt, my website (www.chrisnickson.co.uk) has been revamped – you can find the links there – and I’m all set.

I’m not doing many events to coincide with the book’s release, but I will be talking to a group in Nottingham that’s read The Broken Token, which should be real fun. The other event, next Wednesday, is in Leeds, and it’s given me pause to reflect on how special these events can be.

It’s at Chapel Allerton library. Until I left home at 18 I never lived further than a mile from that library. I first went there when I was three, it was my treasure house of books. At primary school my class would go there every week. I discovered so many authors there, Henry Treece, Jack Kerouac, probably an endless list. It was my mother’s local library until she died. We might have had very different taste in literature, but she used the library regularly. So, for me, it’s a real return to my roots, and that strikes as me a lovely, beautiful thing.

Under the cuts being proposed by the coalition in government, many future writers might not have the chance to write the words I just wrote. That’s robbing them of a future, and of an education they can’t get anywhere else. That’s not just a sin, it’s a crime, and we all need to do everything we can to prevent it happening. Not just for ourselves – I’m still an avid user of the library – but for the future.

The other part to this comes from an email I received from someone researching family history who came across The Broken Token. She evidently doesn’t have the real Richard Nottingham as an ancestor, but she does have a tipstaff – cudgel, truncheon – from the period that’s been handed down in her family. I has two brass badges, one the emblem of George 1, the other the hanging sheep of Leeds with the date 1719. How it relates to her family she’s not sure, but she’s hoping to attend next week’s event and bring it with her. The thought that I might be handling something that could have been touched by the original Richard Nottingham is aweful, in the very best sense. That’s what you call a connection with your character. If it happens, there will be pictures. There have to be.

Sunday 27 March 2011

Busy Times

Back in 2004 I wrote a biography of John Martyn for Helter Skelter, a small London. The book was accepted, but for several reasons, never published. Since then John died, early in 2009. A couple of books had come out about him, and I thought mine would never see the light of day – how many John Martyn books does the world need, anyway?

Then, a few weeks ago I received a call about the book from the heading up the release of John’s posthumous album and a tribute disc. All of which now I’m now doing more interviews and adding to the book to finish it. Solid Air – The Life of John Martyn should appear as an ebook and print on demand in June, through Amazon and also marketed via the website that will be handling the music releases.

On top of that I’ve finished going through the final page proofs for my second Richard Nottingham book, Cold Cruel Winter, to be published as a hardback in the UK in May (September in the US). The publisher has just accepted the third book in the series, The Constant Lovers, and I’ll shortly be working with the editor on that.

As if all that wasn’t enough, the fourth book in the series (tenatively called Come the Fear) tapped me on the shoulder and said I had to start writing it, and an entirely different novel seems to be happening as well, although I refuse to say more about it than that.

There’s also the business of earning my daily bread, so I’m working, writing articles and reviews, doing other interviews for features. If people say writers have it easy, don’t believe a word. Many of us work damn hard.

Sunday 6 March 2011

A Book Finished

This morning I finished the final read-through of my new book, attached it to an e-mail and sent it off to my agent so she can forward it to the publisher. That’s it, job done. Several revisions, two excellent critiques with changes made, and The Constant Lovers is off my desk.

As always, when a book that’s been so much a part of you goes it’s a case of mix feelings. There’s the pleasure of finally being done, of having given it everything, having lived, sweated and died with these people, loved them and hated them. Then there’s the sadness of letting go, off seeing this child venture out alone into the world, beyond my care.

And there’s also the oh shit, I have to do it all again soon feeling.

The good part with The Constant Lovers is that, from start to finish, the book took a little under six months while working other jobs, some writing, some not. The bad part is that it took a little under six months. A good book should take longer, right? I came into it right after finishing the previous book in the series (Cold Cruel Winter, which will be published in May), so the characters were strong in my mind, and I had a good idea what I wanted to do. But it’s not a course I’d take again. It’s just too much, too fast. More breathing space between is needed. So now I know that, and the fourth book has been taking shape for a few months. It’ll wait longer before I really begin, though.

Meanwhile, I can address that what next feeling. Seven years ago I wrote a biography on John Martyn that, for complex reasons, was never published. Since then the man himself died. This June a posthumous album will be released, along with a tribute album, and my book, revised and completed, will appear as part of the celebration of John. So it’s a welcome change-up to non-fiction for a few months (along with paid work) and music writing. And after that? Well, we’ll wait and see what happens…

Thursday 10 February 2011

Cold Cruel Winter (Part 1)

People think that once a writer has finished writing the book, the work is done. That’s far from the truth, of course. In many ways it’s just beginning. There’s still the wrangling with the editor, sometimes fight for something as trivial as a word (swear word or otherwise) until the text has been agreed upon.

Is it finished? Hardly. Wait a few months and there’s the cover copy to be settled, which can mean more to-ing and fro-ing. Once that’s out of the way there’s the cover itself. The publisher might have two or more to choose from delivered by the artist, including style of letting, where it’s placed and so on. This is where I am right now. The cover is set for Cold Cruel Winter, and very good it looks took, quite bleak and chilling. The placing and style of the lettering keeps the “brand,” which is a good thing. Now there’s the sub (for want of a better phrase). Currently in there is ‘A Richard Nottingham historical murder mystery.’ I’m probably wrong, but the words historical murder mystery always manage to sound fluffy to me, and this book is anything but that (I hope). So the publisher and I have been going back and forth, and it seems as if we’ve compromised on ‘A Richard Nottingham mystery.’ It might not seem like a great difference, but it feels like one.

And what next? There will be the final cover, going through the proofs, and then publication. For those writers better-known, or whose publishers have deeper pockets, that’s when the book tours and interviews begin. For me…well, that’s over three months away. A great deal can happen in that time.

Saturday 5 February 2011

Look Back in Charanga

Sue Miller & Charanga del Norte
Look Back in Charanga

Charanga del Norte CDN OOCD10

Accomplished flautist and Cuban music expert Sue Miller deserves an apology from me. This CD arrived last summer, and was played then, but somehow slipped down into a pile…This is someone who knows her stuff and loves nothing more than a god descarga (jam session). She feels Cuban music in her blood, and the band behind her does some sterling work. That she’s the star is beyond doubt, and her freewheeling, spiralling improvisations are joyful to hear. Bonus points for coming from Leeds and the delightful wordplay in the title, but the meat is in the performance, which is as tasty as they come – within Cuba or outside.

On a sonic level the recording could have been better – the flute is sometimes too shrill – but that’s essentially a minor quibble. The music is what matters, and there’s plenty of it.

Wednesday 26 January 2011

It’s been an odd but very heartening week for writing. As I focus on editing the third book in the Leeds series (currently called The Constant Lovers), things have been building a little with the first book, The Broken Token. First there was a lovely review at http://pamreader.blogspot.com/2011/01/broken-token-by-chris-nickson.html, which made me feel good, and that was followed by this from Mystery Scene, which I’m reliably informed is quite influential in the US (http://www.mysteryscenemag.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=1743:the-broken-token&catid=26:books).

That should have been quite enough to spur me on, and it has been. The cherry on this lovely topping, however, was a message I received from a friend on Facebook. She’s a dramatist with several plays on radio and TV to her credit, and lives in Leeds, where The Broken Token is set. She’d read the book and is interested in adapting it for television. Costume drama but not for girlies, as she put it. Now, we both know that the likelihood of this reach fruition is minimal, but that someone wants to do that, and agents are talking to each other, is one of the biggest boosts I could have received.

As if all that wasn’t quite enough, during November I began work on a side project, another novel set in Leeds, this time in 1645, during the Civil War. I penned 12,000 words, and this week, carefully revised and vetted, they’ve gone off to my agent to see what she thinks. There’s even been time to put down some notes about the projected fourth book in the Richard Nottingham series. It never stops. At least, I hope it doesn’t.

Monday 10 January 2011

Thoughts on Arizona

In Arizona a Congresswoman comes close to death from a gunman while six other die and over a dozen are wounded. The politicians – being sane for once, as they realise it could have been any of them – condemn the culture of violence that helped foster this assassination attempt.

And yet, many of them have been indirectly responsible for it. Those on the right have benefited from the escalating hatred, the vitriol that’s been put into the air by politicians and for many years longer by political commentators such as Glen Beck and Rush Limbaugh. Hypocritical, yes, but it has to be hoped that it’s not too late to pull back from this brink. The commentators, notably, don’t feel any sense of responsibility for what’s happened. That, however, is no surprise.

But America is a country that seems incapable of doing anything by halves. Rather than quietly accepting the embarrassment of Wikileaks (and virtually all of these cable leaks have been nothing more than that), they empanel a secret Grand Jury and subpoena all manner of documents, as if revenge on a few individuals will satisfy an appetite, an hunger to strike back. Of course, if the country had been ethical in the first place, none of this would even be necessary. They’ve made Bradley Manning, the young, gay soldier suspected of leaking information (note that he’s just suspected, and that on the word of a reportedly unreliable source) into a scapegoat, violating his rights in the same way those at Guantanamo have been treated. For those of us who hoped for a new chapter with Obama taking office, it’s a case of plus ça change…

The ripples of what happen in America spill out into the rest of the world. Any country that has the hubris to consider itself the world’s policeman, and that feels bringing democracy, even if it’s not wanted or appropriate, is akin to a holy duty, is on very tricky moral ground. The divisions between left (such as any left remains anywhere) and right will deepen all over the globe. American can regain a little of the high ground by bringing back civility. Will it happen? Sadly not, as too many of its citizens are too stupid to want that (and that herd mentality isn’t just American, it’s duplicated in every nation). They prefer the swagger and strut of argument, and now that concealed weapons can be carried in so many states, the toll of blood, public and private, is just likely to grow.