Long-term TD reader Adrian McEwen has just launched a new web-based service called Booklert, which should be a useful tool for any authors wishing to track their Amazon sales rankings on a regular basis.

The service lets you choose the book (or books) whose rankings you want to follow. (These don't have to be books that you have written yourself, of course.) It also lets you choose how often you want to receive the updates: weekly, daily or even hourly, at time slots of your choosing.

Updates can be sent to you via e-mail, or via Twitter.

Badges can be generated showing your books' current rankings, which you can then display on your website. These will also allow click-throughs to the Amazon pages for each book.

The Booklert site is here. Further product info is here, and the sign-up page is here.

As an inveterate Stats Freak, I have to say that this appeals to me greatly. Now, all I need is a Book Deal...

Labels: books, linkage

Congratulations to Sarah Peach and her team for publishing You're Not The Only One: a compilation of 106 personal stories contributed by mostly UK-based bloggers, with all profits going to War Child: "an international charity that works with children affected by war in Afghanistan, Iraq, Democratic Republic of Congo and Uganda."



The book has been compiled and published in a similar way to last year's Shaggy Blog Stories, but (rather more sensibly!) over a period of a few months, rather than in one single week. It's great to see a whole new crop of bloggers represented within its pages, with only a dozen or so writers from last year popping up again this year.

Oh, and I'm in it. So, with that Killer Sales Hook fresh in your minds, please proceed forthwith to the ordering page on lulu.com, where you can preview (for free)the front and back cover, the contents, the introduction and even the first story.

There's more information about the book, as well as a list of contributors, over at Sarah Peach's blog.

Labels: blogs, books, charity

(Jump straight to Part One.)

The second thing I should tell you is this: you may not like Petite Anglaise. Its language is simple and unadorned; it nurses no lofty literary aspirations; its appeal is mass-market. It will be bought at airports, and read on sun loungers. The sort of people who “don’t normally read books” will read it, and most of them will enjoy it. If you’re the sort of person who shies away from such deliberately accessible populism, or if you’re the sort of person who likes a few more shades of purple in their prose, then I must advise you to be cautious.

The third thing I should tell you is this: you may not like Catherine Sanderson. The book’s central narrative thrust goes like this: woman starts blog, is wooed by one of her readers, and leaves the father of her child in order to embark upon a passionate relationship with him – while blogging about all of these events, as they happen, to an audience of thousands. The story is told from her point of view, with unflinching honesty. If you’re the sort of person who cannot accept any form of infidelity, for any reason and under any circumstance, then I must again advise you to be cautious.

The fourth and most important thing I should tell you is this: I like this book, and its author, a great deal. Catherine has made the transition from blogger to author with rare ease, displaying a natural ability to retell her story in the longer, smoother, less episodic, more structured format. Her language may be straightforward, but it is never banal. The lives that she describes may be commonplace, but much of the territory that she maps out is new.

For without the central presence of "petite anglaise" – both the blog and the blogger – this would be just another variation on upon a story that has been told many times before: souped-up soap opera, superior chick-lit. But what makes this story so unique is the impact that Catherine’s blog has upon the rest of her life, and upon the lives of those around her. When viewed as an extended meditation upon the effects that personal blogging can have upon “real life” – thrilling and threatening, illuminating and distorting, cathartic and toxic – then Petite Anglaise claims new ground, its deceptive lightness of touch concealing fresh, profound and sometimes disturbing insights.

As for the perceived “selfishness” of the author’s actions (an area where certain Amazon reviewers have been less than kind), I would say this: can anyone walk out on one relationship in order to start another, without having to act – to a greater or lesser degree – like a bit of a bastard, or a bit of a bitch? These things go, as they say, with the territory. With that understood, the other great strength of this book is the way that Catherine is able to describe these events – not all of which reflect upon her in the best of all possible lights – without lapsing into snivelling self-flagellation, or into manipulative self-justification. Instead, she steers a reliably clear-sighted, even-handed course through the emotional maelstrom, with full and generous consideration given to the other parties involved. (In this respect, the jilted Mr Frog comes across as an immensely sympathetic character, drawn with great affection.)

With all that said, there were passages which still made me flinch. Having spent time with Cath in real life, it was difficult to get through the book’s one brief (and entirely tasteful, and entirely necessary) sex scene without feeling that I was being bounced into the role of reluctant voyeur. Having sailed perilously close to the wind myself in this blog’s early, more confessional days, certain blogging-related episodes had me writhing with the sharp pain of recognition. And having long since pulled up my own personal shutters to what I perceive as a healthier, more manageable level, I couldn’t always shake off the nagging feeling of “Should she even be telling us this?”

All of which says more about me than it does about Catherine Sanderson: a patently gifted writer, whose words never strike a false note - and whose next, mercifully fictional work can only build on the strengths of this brave, resonant and remarkable memoir.

Labels: blogs, books, petite anglaise

The first thing I should tell you is this: my opinion on Petite Anglaise - the book of the blog - is inevitably going to be a partial one.

Way back in the summer of 2004, I received an e-mail from Petite, introducing herself and her brand new blog. Although such unsolicited e-mails are widely thought to be against the norms of blogging etiquette (as I'm sure Petite will now have realised, many times over, as yet another fresh-faced hopeful announces themselves in her Inbox), there was something about this particular e-mailer's friendly lack of guile which neutralised my customary suspicions. Moreover, there was something about her fledgling blog which immediately piqued my curiosity.

More self-interestedly, I had been spending many weeks working in Paris, with a bunch of clients who had never shown the remotest interest in how I spent my evenings. In all those months, I had only formed one social contact outside work, and so I rather liked the idea of being able to form another. With a proposed schedule that would see me spending most of the autumn in the city, I looked forward to getting to know this ex-pat Englishwoman with a gift for well-worked observational vignettes of Parisian life.

More unfortunately, I was also in the middle of a nasty and prolonged depressive episode, which had been triggered by a sequence of health problems arising from a gruelling holiday in Peru. No longer capable of sustaining my cheerful online persona, I had let the blog slide into disuse, and had more or less stopped replying to all but the most pressing personal e-mails.

And so Petite's friendly announcement went unanswered, and her promising new blog initially failed to make it into my list of regular reads. Even so, I linked to one of her early posts, and received another equally friendly e-mail, thanking me for doing so.

As it turned out, my presence in Paris was not required that autumn, or at any time in the future. Nevertheless, I continued to follow Petite Anglaise, which became a regular "appointment" read at around the time that its content shifted from the observational to the more directly personal.

One Saturday afternoon in September 2005, Petite and I found ourselves at the same gathering of British bloggers, at a London pub. As bloggers' gatherings go, this was a slightly strange one, characterised by the unusually high levels of nervousness in the room. This nervousness certainly extended to me; although usually adept at living up to the blog persona, I found this one to be something of a struggle. (The hangover didn't help, either.)

I may have been wrong - and we'd never met, so how could I judge? - but I thought that Petite was finding it slightly heavy going as well. She was certainly quieter and more self-contained than I was expecting, and I couldn't help but sense a certain aloofness. It was probably just the natural self-defence mechanism of an equally and understandably nervous soul, but once again I felt a certain disappointment, that our long-postponed and (for my part) happily presumed Great Friendship hadn't kicked in after all. But then, as her book both explains and explores, there is a difference between Catherine Sanderson and "petite anglaise" - just as there is a difference between Mike Atkinson and "troubled diva", and between many other personal bloggers and their online alter egos.

---

At the same gathering, I got talking to a feisty and disarmingly frank Mexican woman, who had just landed in the UK and who was planning to spend the remainder of her visit with an unnamed British lover. ("I'm sorry, I cannot tell you anything about him!" "I am hoping to have a lot of sex!") I only found out much later that the mystery lover was another British blogger, that the pair had met via each others' blogs, and that at the end of her visit, they eloped back to Mexico together, each abandoning their spouses in order to start a new life.

The British blogger announced this by leaving a note out for his wife and children, which was only found after his disappearance. The shockwaves reverberated around certain sections of UK blogland for weeks. The abandoned wife even started a blog of her own. For those who didn't know them, it was pure soap opera: compelling, car-crash stuff. Who knew that the simple act of maintaining a personal blog could have such dramatic consequences?

---

The next time I met Petite - or Catherine, or Cath, as our mutual friends called her - it was a year later, at another London bloggers' gathering, organised by the same blogpal as before. By this time (Autumn 2006) several members of this particular group had started landing paid writing gigs on the strength of their blogs, and so there was a certain heady excitement in the air, and much talk of that shiny new Holy Grail, the (squeak!) Book Deal. Gone was the nervousness of the previous year, to be replaced by a new-found self-confidence, and a sense that something pretty cool was happening. Perhaps it was the one, symbolic, and never quite repeated public manifestation of our little gang's moment in the sun.

Whatever it was (and whatever it might have looked like to anyone reading about it afterwards), it was a supremely happy afternoon - even if it did leave one first-generation blogger (who had been somewhat bemused to be asked, by one bright young thing working the room, "So, what is your blog about?") commenting that she "felt like a Betamax in a room full of DVDs".

Cath and I chatted a lot more easily on that occasion, and again at a mutual friend's birthday party the following Spring (which also marked a sudden, awful flash of realisation on my part, that maybe, just maybe, I had started to take the Eurovision Song Contest just a little bit too seriously for my own good, but let's not digress all night). Aloof? God, where did I get that idea from? And how had I failed to spot that wry, understated, engagingly naughty (and sometimes downright filthy) sense of humour?

A few months later, we met each other at another mutual friend's house, where - having, shall we say, mis-calculated and over-indulged - I committed one of my worst gaffes in living memory, telling our hostess that her delicious home-cooked chocolate dessert was so good that "I thought you'd got it from Marks and Spencers!" From that point onwards, my memories of the evening are hazy to non-existent - apart from one moment where, vaguely conscious that I had laughed a little too loud and a little too long at some minor witticism, I thought I caught a slight but telling frown of baffled alarm.

On all of these occasions, our encounters were quite out of context with the life that Cath describes on her blog, and now in her book. Mr Frog (the father of her child), Tadpole (the daughter herself, whose singular charisma bursts from the page, making her perhaps the book's true star), James from Rennes (the blog reader turned lover, and catalyst for the break-up with Mr Frog), the Boy (the lover recently turned fiancé)... all these key figures in her life remain as abstract constructs, and no more known to me than to any of her thousands of readers.

None the less, I count her as a good, trusty blogpal. We chat from time to time (when she told me that she "had kittens" in Richard and Judy's dressing room, I took her quite literally, assuming that Channel 4 had acceded to some strange diva demand); our respective sites have wafted on and off each other's blogrolls over the years; and she was an immense help to the Shaggy Blog Stories endeavour, readily and willingly giving up many hours of her time to help assess the submissions.

So, yes, the first thing you should know is that my opinion of Petite Anglaise is a partial one. I've been looking forward to reading it ever since I first heard of the (squeak!) Book Deal, back in 2006 - and I'm happy to report that not only does it live up to my expectations, but that it vastly exceeds them.

Tomorrow, I might even getting around to telling you why.

To be continued.

Labels: blogs, books, petite anglaise

Yesterday evening, I gave a lecture to Nottingham Trent University's Creative Writing M.A. students, on the subject of (what else?) blogging. As promised at the end, here are my lecture notes (in MS Word format) - please right-click and select "Save As" to download them.

Supporting links are as follows, in the order in which I mentioned them during the talk:

Diablo Cody: Oscar-winning blogger.
Technorati: The State of the Live Web, April 2007.
Letters Home: Alison Moyet's blog.
Interview with Alison Moyet, in which she talks about her blog.
The "Online Disinhibition Effect".
Being "Dooced": sacked from one's job due to blogging.
My autobiographical "40 in 40 Days Project".
The Bloggies: annual weblog awards.
Freelance work for slate.com: "America, Meet The Eurovision Song Contest".
Bloglines: RSS feed reader/aggregator.
Statcounter: website stats monitor.
My "statement of jadedness" re. Web 2.0 re-definitions of "friendship".
Belle De Jour: first UK blog-turned-book.
Girl With A One-Track Mind: anonymous sex blog turned book...
..."outed" by the Sunday Times.
Petite Anglaise: fired for blogging, first book about to be published.
Random Acts Of Reality: ambulance driver's blog turned book.
The Policeman's Blog - another "job blog" turned book.
My Boyfriend Is A Twat - Zoe McCarthy (humour)
Out Of The Tunnel - Rachel North (7/7 survivor's memoir)
Gods Behaving Badly - Marie Phillips (fiction)
The Friday Project (specialist blog to book publishers)
Lulu.com (specialist online self-publishers)
Shaggy Blog Stories (charity blogging compilation, published in a week)
Post Of The Week - promotes good writing on new blogs.
You're Not The Only One - new charity blogging compilation, still accepting submissions.
Novel Racers - self-help group.
Bookarazzi: excellent, comprehensive, lively resource for bloggers with book deals.
Max Gogarty's travel blog for The Guardian: a recent example of how NOT to do it!
North vs Lowde: blogger jailed for harrassment of other blogger, following "Wanted" campaign on UK blogosphere.
Guardian Unlimited: Comment Is Free.
Published novelists who subsequently started blogging: Clare Sudbery, Penelope Farmer, Kate Harrison
Plasticbag.org: (Weblogs and) The Mass Amateurisation of (Nearly) Everything... (influential think-piece)

Yup, that little lot should keep you going!

---

NOTE: As a result of all this activity, there was no Which Decade post yesterday, for which apologies. The next instalment will be appearing this evening.

Labels: blogs, books

Just under a year ago, I launched Shaggy Blog Stories: a blogging anthology which went on to sell over 500 copies, raising over £2000 for Comic Relief.

This year, Peach has picked up the baton, in the form of You're Not The Only One: a brand new blog-to-book project, with a brand new theme, a brand new editorial team, and a brand new charity.

The theme: You can basically write about anything you like, provided that it describes a personal experience. As Peach says:The team: Peach has recruited an all-female crew, consisting of herself, Ariel, Ms R, Sarah and Vi. However, just because the team is all-female, this doesn't mean that the contributors all have to be female. Indeed - and this is another change from Shaggy Blog Stories - you don't even have to be British.

The charity: Roughly £4.30 from every copy sold will be donated to WARCHILD.

The details: Full info can be found on Peach's site. If you're spreading the word, then please be sure to include the same link.

This should be an excellent project. Can't wait to see the finished article.

Labels: blogs, books, community, linkage

In honour of Zoe's marvellous book (available in the shops NOW, and they really do make such marvellous gifts), based on the marvellous blog of the same name, it gives me great pleasure to host a one-off revival of that marvellous 1970s game show (revived somewhat less marvellously in the 1990s)... Mr & Mrs!!!

The aim of the game is simple. How well do Zoe and her twatty boyfriend Quarsan really know each other? In order to find out, I'll be asking them each ten questions: five about Zoe, and five about Quarsan. They will be answering these question in strict isolation, with no conferring, secret winks, sign language, telepathic mind control etc etc.

For every pair of matching answers, I shall be awarding one point.

If Zoe and Quarsan agree on all ten of their answers, they will have achieved maximum compatibility.

If they disagree on all ten... well, maybe we won't be surprised.

OK, Let the game commence!

---

Zoe, will you please approach the witness stand. My, you do scrub up well. Firstly, I'm going to ask you five questions about yourself. Are you ready? Bonne chance!

1. If your house was on fire, which ONE object would you save? (Please note that the object must be inanimate, and carryable.)

What does inanimate mean? Oh right, I've looked it up.
Just the ONE object? Ermmmm - my laptop.

2. If you were obliged to perform karaoke in a public place, which song would you pick?

I would never, ever sing in public - I think people deserve the right never to hear me sing. But IF I really had to, it would be 'Perfect Day' had I thought about it, but I just know I'd end up singing 'Bohemian Raphsody'. Or however you spell it.

3. Which is your favourite post on the acclaimed and award-winning My Boyfriend Is A Twat weblog?

Probably a guest-blogger's. Or one of the 'Twat's Quotes of the Day'.

4. Your household has been described as “a mixture of The Osbournes, Absolutely Fabulous and My Family” – but which character do you resemble the most?

• Sharon Osbourne (played by Sharon Osbourne)
• Edina Monsoon (played by Jennifer Saunders)
• Patsy Stone (played by Joanna Lumley)
• Susan Harper (played by Zoe Wanamaker)

Edina Monsoon, I'm afraid.

5. Which ONE item of Quarsan’s clothing would you most like to destroy?

His poncy-poofy-tracky-trainers, without a doubt.

Thank you for your answers, Zoe. We'll be talking to you again later. Now please stand down.

---

Quarsan, will you please approach the witness stand. Ah, I see that you're wearing your favourite hooded sweatshirt. The one with gibbons on it. No, you haven't got time to make a political speech. OK, is Zoe wearing her headphones in the isolation booth? Then we may proceed.

Quarsan, here are five questions about Zoe. Please answer them truthfully - and remember: each matching answer that you give will earn you one point. Once again, bonne chance!

1. If your house was on fire, which ONE object would Zoe save? (Please note that the object must be inanimate, and carryable.)

This is impossible. She'd be running round like a badger with it's arse on fire. She could pick up anything, anything at all. I'll go for her laptop or failing that a hairdryer.

As you both said "laptop", you score ONE POINT!

2. If Zoe was obliged to perform karaoke in a public place, which song would she pick?

She would sing Bohemian Rhapsody. Loudly and badly. She would also fail to get the words right. This has happened frequently. Next time i'm going to put it on You Tube.

Ooh, tricky. You both said "Bohemian Rhapsody", but Zoe's first answer was "Perfect Day". However, as Zoe said that she "just knows" she'd end up singing Bo Rhap, I shall give you the benefit of the doubt, and award you a SECOND POINT!

3. Which is Zoe’s favourite post on the acclaimed and award-winning My Boyfriend Is A Twat weblog?

Dunno. Probably one of the guest posts, probably yours.

Ah, how you flatter me. In which case, as you both said "guest post", you can have a THIRD POINT! How long can this lucky streak last?

4. Your household has been described as “a mixture of The Osbournes, Absolutely Fabulous and My Family” – but which character does Zoe resemble the most?

• Sharon Osbourne (played by Sharon Osbourne)
• Edina Monsoon (played by Jennifer Saunders)
• Patsy Stone (played by Joanna Lumley)
• Susan Harper (played by Zoe Wanamaker)

Ih give me a chance here. She's as bossy as Sharon, as batshit as Edina, as pissed as Patsy. But out of the shower she looks just like Susan, so i'll go for Susan Harper.

QUACK QUACK OOPS! As Zoe went for Edina Monsoon, you earn your first fail. Tant pis! Chin up!

5. Which ONE item of your clothing would Zoe most like to destroy?

My tracksuit bottoms. They're excellent made by small asian children for Mr Ron Hill. Suitable for all occasions, combning comfort, practicability and style. For some unaccountable reason Zoe takes exception to them and tries to tear them up at every opportunity, even when I am wearing them. In a restaurant.

Well, that one was always going to be an easy lob, wasn't it? Congratulations, Quarsan and Zoe: after the first round, you have scored an impressive FOUR POINTS OUT OF FIVE.

---

Now, let's see how you fare on Round Two. Quarsan, please enter the isolation booth. Zoe, welcome back. Here are your five questions on Quarsan.

1. What is Quarsan’s most annoying habit? (Please note that you may only pick ONE answer. Nobody said this was going to be easy.)

His farting. Light a match and this house would go up in flames. He is also capable of farting so loudly during the night that he wakes me up.

2. As an ex-pat Brit living in Belgium, which ONE aspect of British life does Quarsan miss the most?

Mountains. Do they count? If not, then bacon butties.

3. And which ONE aspect of Belgian life annoys Quarsan the most?

Shops being shut on Sunday. This isn't fair - just the ONE?

4. Many otherwise sane and well-balanced couples have instigated an exemption clause known as the “Celebrity Bye” into their relationship. This permits each partner, should the opportunity arise, to enjoy extra-marital physical relations with ONE previously named celebrity, on ONE occasion, with no fear of sanction. If you and Quarsan were ever barmy enough to instigate a “Celebrity Bye”, which lucky celebrity would Quarsan nominate as his Bonk of Choice?

That goes without saying: Kylie bloody Minogue.

5. Finally, and in the interests of balance: which is Quarsan’s ONE most lovable quality?

His ability to make me laugh so much.

Merci bien, Zoe. You did good.

---

Quarsan, let's see whether your answers match Zoe's. Here we go...

1. What is your most annoying habit?

I have no annoying habits. I have innocent habits that Zoe, in her unreasonable way, interprets as annoying. She'd probably have to decide between bottom burps and my ability to totally ignore her, something many have tried but few achieve. It's a bit like tuning out the static in your head when listening to Radio Luxembourg. I think the gastrinal aerobics.

Ooh, we were on the edge of our seats with that one, weren't we, readers? But you got there in the end, Quarsan. Farts it is! ONE POINT!

2. As an ex-pat Brit living in Belgium, which ONE aspect of British life do you miss the most?

Bacon. And mountains. And mountains of bacon.

Well, you both said "bacon", and you both said "mountains". That's almost worth two points! But let's not get carried away here.

3. And which ONE aspect of Belgian life annoys you the most?

The fact that there are three seperate languages/ governments/ nations in Belgium and this causes confusion and an almost apartheid system. I've said that Belgium mostly resembles Rwanda with an economy.

QUACK QUACK OOPS! Ah, y'see? If you go dragging politics into the equation, then you're bound to come a cropper where Zoe's concerned. Nul points for this one, I'm afraid.

4. Many otherwise sane and well-balanced couples have instigated an exemption clause known as the “Celebrity Bye” into their relationship. This permits each partner, should the opportunity arise, to enjoy extra-marital physical relations with ONE previously named celebrity, on ONE occasion, with no fear of sanction. If you and Zoe were ever barmy enough to instigate a “Celebrity Bye”, which lucky celebrity would you nominate as your Bonk of Choice?

Apart from Kylie, you mean? Actually, she is beginning to look a bit odd, what's that thing with the pernamently raised eyebrow? I'm seriously considering turning my attentions to Konnie Huq.

Again, an easy lob where Kylie is concerned. (I know what you're thinking, but I won't stoop so low.) Have another point.

5. Finally, and in the interests of balance: which is your ONE most lovable quality? (Please note that you may only pick ONE answer. Nobody said this was going to be easy.)

I can catch spiders.

QUACK QUACK OOPS! Or maybe the way you catch spiders is in itself mirth-inducing? Well, maybe we'll find out in the next book.

---

OK, you two. Shall we look at the final scores?

Well, sacré bleu, zut alors and chouette: you have scored a combined Compatability Quotient of...

... (dramatic pause) ....

70%. How healthy and functional is that? Many congratulations! No, you haven't won a car! Cue credits!

(Enjoyed the show? Then BUY THE BOOK. I've read it! It's great! And I don't even read books! What greater endorsement could there be?)

Labels: blogs, books, questions

As of less than an hour ago, I am officially on me hols for the rest of the month, my CD Discman choosing to mark the occasion by serendipitously furnishing me with the all-time summer pop classic "Beach Baby" by First Class (as dissected quite brilliantly here) on the walk home, nestling as it is on Disc Five of the newly released 5CD compilation 101 70s Hits, which I recommend unreservedly, despite the very occasional clunker, but then again, at a retail price which works out at 15 pence per track (or even less if you place your order here), there's really very little to complain about.

But I over-subordinate. To make the next eleven days Truly Special, and bearing in mind that I have become the sort of culturally challenged dullard who only reads books on holiday, I have assembled a Summer Reading List With A Theme. I wonder if you can spot what it is?

Mike's Summer Reading List With A Theme.

1. The Dying Of Delight - Clare Sudbery.

2. Gods Behaving Badly - Marie Phillips.

3. Out Of The Tunnel - Rachel North.

4. The God Interviews - Natalie d'Arbeloff.

5. The Killing Jar - Nicola Monaghan.

(Well, since I've given a talk about them, I thought it might be as well to read a few of them...)

Skoolz out 4evah! Happy holidays, everyone!

Labels: blogs, books

(This article originally appeared in the Nottingham Evening Post.)

Nearly eighteen years after the publication of Sure Of You – the sixth and final instalment of Armistead Maupin’s celebrated Tales Of The City series, which detailed the lives and loves of a disparate and sometimes dissolute group of San Francisco residents – most of the main characters have been brought back to life in an unexpected yet welcome addition to the canon, entitled Michael Tolliver Lives.

Earlier in the week, and a full twenty years after his last visit, Armistead Maupin returned to Nottingham for a promotional appearance at Waterstone’s on Bridlesmith Gate. In front of a 150-strong audience of faithful devotees, he read from the new book, answered questions, and signed our hardback copies. “This is by far my favourite part of the job” reads the claim on his official website, and the 63-year old Maupin certainly seemed in relaxed good humour, radiating an easy, sincere charm which sat well against his ready wit and frequently hilarious anecdotes.

For the uninitiated, Michael “Mouse” Tolliver was one of the best-loved characters in the original Tales series: an essentially good-natured and well adjusted gay man, whose sexual adventurousness was tempered by a pronounced romantic streak. As the encroaching shadow of the 1980s AIDS epidemic began to fall over the carefree frolics that characterised the earlier novels, so Tolliver also suffered agonising loss, eventually being diagnosed HIV positive himself. For a whole generation of gay Americans, Tolliver was perhaps their closest approximation to an Everyman figure.

Now in his mid-fifties, and a long-term survivor of the disease, Michael has long since ceased to be staring imminent death in the face. For the first time, he is given the narrator’s role, telling us his story in his own words. As this story progresses, we gradually re-encounter many old friends, such as Michael’s former housemate Brian Hawkins and his former landlady Anna Madrigal. Characters whom we last saw as children are now fully grown adults, such as Brian’s daughter Shawna, a sex-blogger (“Grrrl On The Loose”) with a book deal, whose own frankness and sense of adventure makes even the formerly libidinous Michael – now ensconced in a blissful if not fully monogamous new relationship – squirm in embarrassment.

Maupin opened by commenting upon an Anglican bishop’s claim that our recent floods were “God’s wrath against us for being lenient towards homosexuals”, wryly noting that the torrential rain seemed to have followed him and his partner Christopher all round the country. “As the tour progressed, the rainier it got!” he chuckled, apparently ready to bear full responsibility.

Earlier in the day, he had paid a visit to York Minster, where his maternal grandmother (a resident of Derby) had given “dramatic recitations” in her youth. “I communed with her spirit”, he explained, adding that she had been a prime inspiration for the character of Anna Madrigal. “So I was going back to the source this morning.”

When asked whether more Tales-derived work might appear in the future, Maupin’s answer was optimistic, if tantalisingly inconclusive. “Maybe. I don’t want to be held to anything, but I’ve been plotting on the train. It just popped up all of a sudden, and I think it’s going to be off and running again. I hope so!”

Since it has been seven years since his last novel (The Night Listener), and a further eight years between that and its predecessor, perhaps it would be best not to get prematurely over-excited.

During these lengthy gaps, Maupin has worked on various dramatic spin-offs. A film adaptation of The Night Listener (starring Robin Williams and Toni Collette) was released last year, and the first three volumes of Tales Of The City (starring Laura Linney and Olympia Dukakis) were serialised for television. Dukakis has stated that the transsexual landlady Anna Madrigal has been her favourite ever role, and the Oscar-nominated Linney has declared herself ready to resume work on Tales at any time.

“So I’ve been busy, but not that busy. I’m not pathological. I’m not Joyce Carol Oates, who writes her next novel in the back seat of the taxi when she’s on a book tour. I’m not anywhere near that kind of self-discipline.”

As for why he decided to write Michael Tolliver Lives in the first person: “I wanted to have the experience of crawling inside Michael. I wanted to tell the story of a middle-aged gay man living in San Francisco who had survived AIDS – who had been “out” to his parents for a long time, and yet they were still voting for politicians that demonise gay people. We’re still very polarised over there, and I thought I had a perfect vehicle to dramatise this. And also, about three years ago, I fell in love in a serious way. It put a whole new light on my life. I wanted to write about it, and to celebrate it.”

Michael Tolliver Lives is published in hardback by Doubleday, £17.99.

Labels: books, eveningpost, gay

Life in a medium-sized city does have distinct advantages. “Large enough to be interesting, small enough to be friendly”, that’s what I always say. And so, when some bright sparks suggested arranging a photo-shoot in the Market Square for all of Nottingham’s “creative” types (writers, artists, musicians, designers, and yea, even unto can-we-say-humble bloggers), word was bound to get through.

All togged up in the nice smart Gieves & Hawkes jacket that I wore to the Lowdham Book Festival, I toddled along to the square just in time to squeeze myself into the back of the shots. Within seconds I found Dymbel, who was soon introducing me (as “blogger extraordinaire”, gawd bless him) to various authentically rumpled, literary-looking types. (Those crisp, tailored lines were such a giveaway.)

“Hello, I’m Mike! I’m an integral part of the mass amateurisation and dumbing down of culture, which threatens to obliterate the last shreds of respect for an intellectual elite! And you are....?”

Well, I could have said that. You know, all waspish-like, for laffs. But instead I came over all Aaargh This Is A Networking Opportunity I Cannot Cope, and fled back to the sanctuary of the office.

First thing I did: Google for the guy that Dymbel first introduced me to. (“You must know each other. No? Well, maybe you move in different worlds.”) Oh crap, he was only one of the most senior and well-respected members of the Nottingham literary community. And I’d just shaken my head and blinked. Well, he hadn’t heard of me either. Cuts both ways, dunnit?

An hour or so later, loins duly girded and best face forward, I was over at the Broadway Cinema for the official post-shoot canapé-and-fizz bash, getting there just in time for the last few seconds of the last speech. Basically, this was a launch event for something called the Nottingham Creative Business Awards 2007, which you can read all about over here. All neurotic passive-aggressive snark aside, I wish it well.

Before long, I found myself talking to a couple of published writers: Clare Brown (who doesn’t have a blog) and Nicola Monaghan (who has two: a fiction blog and a “creative process” blog). Naturally, both conversations homed in on the bloggers-with-book-deals phenomenon, the are-blogs-for-writers-a-help-or-hindrance question, and so forth and suchlike. Most enjoyable.

While Nicola clued me up on the Bookarazzi website, another resource for bloggers with book deals, a familiar face sat down opposite. “Just relax”, he said, pulling out his pad and pen.



This wasn’t the first time that Brick had drawn a caricature of me – his splendid James Gillray pastiche (“All Broad Street trembled as he strode”), as commissioned by Dymbel and Dymbellina for my fortieth birthday, still enjoys pride of place in the cottage – but it was the first time that he, or indeed anyone else, had done so impromptu.

If you’re one of those people who comes over all self-conscious and coy whenever a camera lens is wafted in their general direction, then imagine having that feeling extended for ten minutes or so, while you try and make interesting conversation with nice bright creative types at a Networking Opportunity, with blues music blaring into your left eardrum, just loud enough to block out what was being said diagonally opposite. But I coped, really I did, maintaining both my posture (ooh, three-quarter face on the left hand side, the best angle!) and my brightest, most engaged smile.



An hour or so later, and we were on the top floor of Waterstone’s, awaiting the arrival of Armistead Maupin.

“Look at my new digi-dictaphone!”, I chirped to Dymbel and Dymbellina. “I hope it can pick him up from this distance.”

“Er, Mike, you do know that you’re not supposed to quote writers without their express permission? It’s not exactly ethical.”

I instantly rouged up. Call me naïve, but surely public events like these were, by their very definition, on the record? Evidently not. Well, too late to go asking around at the eleventh hour. I’d make the recording anyway, and then have a word at the signing session after the talk.

As expected, Armistead Maupin was pure delight from start to finish. (The article appears in the Evening Post on Friday, and on t’blog soon after that.) As the final applause died away, the woman to my right leant over. I’d noticed her looking over a few times, and had assumed that she was glaring at the digi-dictaphone, not so subtly wedged between my Pradas.

But no. This was K, a fellow German graduate of the class of 1985, whom I hadn’t seen for over twenty years – even longer than Armistead, come to think of it. With so much to catch up on, I didn’t make my way to the signing queue until perilously late in the day.

When Mike Met Armistead, then. It wasn’t quite the communion of souls that I’d hoped for. By this stage, over a hundred eager punters down, the great man was clearly flagging, and unmaskably disengaged from his immediate surroundings. I tried, of course – and in giving me his permission to quote him directly for the article, he was the very model of graciousness. Signatures were procured, for me and for sadly absent “fag-hag extraordinaire” MissMish (her suggestion, his dedication).

Ah, the creative life, how it takes its toll. The article took three hours, the recording just the right side of audible, the copy filed just before 1:00 a.m. Bloody difficult, but enormous fun. And I’m not complaining neither. It's turning out to be quite a week...

Labels: books, journal

Of course, if one cocks up the timing of one's talk so badly that large chunks of it never get aired, one can always stick one's lecture notes on one's blog afterwards. Because, naturally, one abhors waste.

These, then, are the notes for the second half of Saturday talk, which relate to bloggers and book deals, and the differences between blog writing and book writing.

(Most of the first half can be found here.)

Much of what follows was inspired by (and on occasion, directly lifted from) phone conversations which took place last week with Clare Sudbery and Zinnia Cyclamen ("proper" writers both), to whom much gratitude.

There is something which has recently come to be seen (in certain quarters) as the Holy Grail to which every personal blogger must aspire.

Two little words, which have an almost mystical hold over certain sections of the blogosphere...

...and I’m going to say them now...

BOOK DEAL!

The first UK blog-to-book: Belle De Jour (2004).
- Scandalised the blogosphere by winning the Guardian "Best British Blog" competition.
- Major national press guessing game re. her true identity, which to this day has never been revealed.
- BdJ to be played by Billie Piper on ITV2 series in the autumn. (The ultimate accolade!)

A couple of blogging compilations in 2005 and 2006, mainly sourced from the "political" wing.

In 2006, the "blogger with a book deal" phenomenon began to emerge in earnest.
- Girl with a one-track mind
- Petite Anglaise
- Tom Reynolds: Random Acts Of Reality –> “Blood Sweat & Tea”
- David Copperield: The Policeman’s Blog -> “Wasting Police Time”

Reactions to blog-to-book boom.

People are now aware that book deals from blogs can happen.
- some cynical reactions from certain sections of the blogosphere
- introduces a hierarchy into what might have been seen as an egalitarian model (although it basically still is?)
- ramps up the competitive element
- why aren’t I good enough / what's so great about them / they’re a self-glorifying clique, etc.

Example: Wife In The North.
- £70k deal with Viking Penguin, less than 6 weeks after starting her blog
– shock, horror, had previously worked as Sunday Times journalist
- hence suspicions as to legitimacy of "buzz", cf. Sandi Thom in 2006
- conspiracy theories: it's a PR stunt, etc.
- highlights emphasis on perceived "authenticity" and purity of motives

However: there are no blogging equivalents of Jordan!
- the blogosphere is a meritocracy
- you can’t schmooze your way to the top if you’re crap
- although there are scores of overlooked gems, the most popular personal blogs are popular for a good reason
- consistently well written and engaging
- have something which makes people want to come back for more

Emerging outlets for blog-to-book publishing.

The Friday Project.
- niche publishers in blog-to-book market
- much kudos within the blogosphere if TFP picks you up
- can they compete with the majors in terms of PR/marketing/distribution?
- depends on the extent of your hunger for world domination!

Self-publishing.
- ideal if you’re not into world domination, and not looking to shift mega-units
- sold online only
- you set your own rate of royalties
- though sales will be smaller, your percentage will be higher than going through a normal publisher
- benefit of immediacy: as soon as you submit your Word document or PDF file, the book is ready to order
- no start-up costs; books are printed to order and sold directly by self-publishing website
- you don’t need to pre-order, so no risk of being left with boxes of unsold stock

Leading self-publisher is lulu.com
– have coined the term “blook” (ugh)
- concept is promoted via the annual Lulu Blooker Prize
- I used them for my own venture into self-publishing: Shaggy Blog Stories (see below)

Could we see a rise in self-publishing and a move to grassroots? Lulu.com operating like an indie record label distributor?
- Maybe, but no sign of it yet.
- You can surf Myspace and quickly find a whole host of hot new bands, but you’ll search in vain on Lulu for hot new writers.
- Still in the realm of vanity publishing – no reliable indicators of quality – low volumes of sales. (SBS sold 500 copies and is in the all time top 200 best sellers, if that’s any indication.)
- No distribution network, and no marketing clout outside the Lulu website – you have to do all your promotion yourself.

Shaggy Blog Stories.

Anthology of comic writing from UK blogs.
- to raise money for Comic Relief
- but also “a book deal for all”, to widen the opportunity for bloggers to make it into print
- conceived and executed in seven days flat
- book released at midnight on the start of Red Nose Day
- 300 submissions, reviewed by editorial team, 100 selected for publication
- DIY typesetting/editing/proofing – crash course – steep learning curve - great experience - much help offered and gratefully received
- 500 copies sold, c.£2000 raised
- lulu.com supportive, waived their own royalties
- publicity: BBC Radio Five Live, Radio 2, some national press, but overhwelmingly via word-of-mouth and links from other blogs
- spin-off podcast (complete and utter flop!)

Have also set up Post of the Week
- to promote great writing on personal blogs
- to draw wider attention to blogs which might otherwise have been overlooked
- one guaranteed humdinger of a blog post, once a week, every week

The curious isolation of the blogger-turned-writer.

Once a blogger lands a book deal, they face a new set of pressures/problems/bewilderments, a lot of which can't be blogged about.
- not wanting to brag / to bore / to jinx things before "going public"
- “all your dreams have come true, stop whinging!”
- issues can be stressful and scary

Writers don’t tend to meet each other
– not introduced via agents/publishers etc
- there’s no club, but you do want to talk to people

Other sources of info/help:
- blogs which deal with the creative process (eg. struggling author, real e fun)
- people are approaching each other out of the blue with messages of appreciation/support, and some acts of real generosity take place
- but if you can’t blog and you can’t talk, maybe you need a support network?

“Bloggers with book deals”
– private discussion group
- enthusiastic responses when set up – active and busy group
- divides between pre-existing authors with blogs, and bloggers who have landed deals – mostly first time writers (or at least first time fiction writers)

"The Novel Racers"
- informal support group
- international
- has its own group blog, where writers post on the progress they are making, and generally cheer each other on
- pre-existing book deals not required!
- started as a "race" to see who completed their novel first, but since has widened its reach

Issues confronting the blogger-turned-author.

One big shock might be the sheer amount of hard work that has to be put in.
- not a simple matter of copy/pasting standalone blog posts into a Word document
- need for a unifying narrative arc / structure / start, middle and end

You’ll also need to work through various drafts.
– the idea of a draft is anathema to most bloggers
– after all, the vast majority of blog posts are first drafts!

Then you’ll need to edit yourself. You can’t be flabby, and you can’t waffle on.
- This was a problem I noticed time after time when editing Shaggy Blog Stories.
- Potentially strong pieces bogged down by acres of excess verbiage.
- Many digressions, which might be important to the author - and maybe to the author’s immediate circle - but not to the wider readership.
- Shut up and get on with the story!
- The clearest indication that once you transfer online writing to the printed page, that different standards automatically apply – it highlights the weaknesses in the prose quite mercilessly.

Similar issues are faced when moving into journalism.
- tightening up of writing style
- can’t use the first person
- have to stick to a word count
- involves ruthless paring down, which can initially hurt if you're precious about each word
- your prose might then be hacked around by sub-editors

I welcomed the imposition of this kind of discipline.
– have learned to love the editing process, though painful at first
- made it much easier to swing the axe when editing Shaggy Blog Stories
- but also makes it much harder to return to the freedom of blog writing
- my voice has changed; can feel like a retrograde step to return to my old voice, where I can ramble/digress/parenthesise/stuff my sentences full with too many adverbs etc.
- maybe I’ve finally exhausted myself as a subject... who'd have thought it!
- maybe some bloggers-turned-authors will end up feeling the same way?

Another big issue: bloggers-turned-authors are generally writing about their own lives: memoir.
- Big worry is not breaching the confidentiality of others, but the fact that you're exposing yourself.
- It’s the "getting caught naked in public" dream.
(NB: I only started having this dream when I started blogging!)

Also: potential exposure to a new level of criticism which they’re not used to.
- Readers will accept a lower quality of writing from a blog than a book.
- In a blog, roughness & immediacy is part of the charm – you can feel the heat of the moment. This won’t wash on the printed page.
- People will criticise books in a way that they generally don’t with blogs.
- You no longer have the safety of the fluffy comment box support group, which does have a tendency to over-praise.
- Put material onto the printed page, and it automatically raises the bar.
- Have to deal with resentment... “I could do that”...
- ...or “you’ve only been published because [insert snarky theory here]”

Comments box politics.

Wider exposure opens up the comments box.
– petite & girl now get large numbers of comments from strangers all over the world
– that feeling of a semi-closed community is lost forever
- introduces an unprecedented new level of direct public communication between author and readers
- too many comments for readers to follow - makes the "conversation" too unwieldy
- not all comments will be supportive or welcome!
- sycophancy/abuse/self-promotion/various other dodgy motives
- introduces a need to hold comments for moderation, and to delete the worst (which can in itself generate more problems)
- you have to question what value you’re getting from the process
- plenty of reasons to retain comments, but it takes time/effort/courage

Rachel North/Felicity Lowde – extreme cautionary tale of a commenter turned stalker/harrasser.

Most authors continue to subscribe to the “tablets of stone” model.

But one of the big differences between blog writing and novel writing or journalism, is that blog posts are seen as initiating a discussion.
- old media journalists had to learn this when contributing to The Guardian's Comment Is Free blog
- expected to hang around and participate, after publishing your article

Growing trend for bloggers reply to every comment they receive
- particularly newer bloggers
- becoming expected as a matter of course
- danger of being seen as aloof if you don't?

Writer to blogger: reversing the flow.

Plenty of established journalists have seen the writing on the wall and set up their own blogs.
- raises their profiles; enhances rather than threatens their published work

However, very few published novelists have gone on to set up their own blogs.
- a growing number have their own websites, but not their own blogs
– even though blogs are easier to keep up to date with fresh new content
- also leads to higher Google rankings

Examples:
- Clare Sudbery
- Penelope Farmer (Grannyp) - only recently “came out”
- Kate Harrison - blogs about the creative process
- David Belbin

Professional sniffiness?

Perhaps professional writers are somewhat sniffy:
- a lot of work for no income
- why would I give my writing away for free?
- is this “mass amateurisation” a dumbing down?
- blogging as distraction / displacement activity
- encourages looser, less structured, more undisciplined writing
- suspicious of the public exposure – why put a diary online?
- a threat to my livelihood?

Problem of perception:
- Blogs to books seen as chick-lit or toilet reading rather than serious literature.
- Perhaps this doesn’t matter – all the most widely read blog writing is populist in nature – maybe it goes with the territory.
- Blog reading is quick-hit, short-attention-span, coffee-break reading – it doesn’t lend itself to extended concentration or complex narrative structures.

Alternatively, and more positively:
- a testbed for new ideas, a play pen, a coffee break, a place to muck around and experiment.
- requires less motivation/commitment, so loosens you up.
- a place to offload all the stuff that won’t fit in your novel, that you might otherwise have tried to shoe-horn in.

Every blogging writer that I've spoken to has told me that blogging has been an immense help rather than an awkward hindrance.

“If I want to be noticed as a writer, should I start a blog?”

Don’t start a blog assuming that you’ll be noticed and snapped up.
It has happened – but it’s very much the exception.
Although if you’re good, people will discover you and start reading you.

Be prepared to join a community, as a participating member.
You get out what you put in, so discover your own favourite blogs, link to them, leave comments... the love you send out will return to you.

If a high readership is important to you, then:
- maintain a consistent style & theme
- update regularly, without fail, at least 3 times a week
- reply to your commenters – it makes them feel included
(I break all the above, and this costs me readers.)
- focus on your readership – read the blog through their eyes
- make every word count
- be patient – let your reputation build at its own pace

It can be a distraction; it can be a dead end. But equally it can help you to:
- find a voice
- develop your writing skills
- build an audience and a support group
- give you confidence to move onto larger tasks

Time and again, I’ve observed people whose style has developed and matured over time. You see a raw spark, you latch onto it, and you see it flourish. A rewarding process to observe.

You can treat it as a self-help/self-study creative writing course, with automatic mutual peer review. (But beware the sycophants!)
- Just remember – you can’t expect to be able to run a 5 star restaurant just because you can cook a mean pizza.
- Creative writing courses, Arvon foundation courses, writers’ groups and how-to books are all available, and blogging is no quick & dirty short cut.

Finally, and personally speaking...

You could argue that if you’re a natural writer, you would have found an outlet for your writing anyway...
...but without blogging, I would never have started writing again.
- I used to write for pleasure, but in secret – there seemed something vaguely shameful about it – and stopped at age 17.
- Zero confidence in my abilities – didn’t believe I could do anything useful with it – felt I had to grow up.
- Since starting 5.5 years ago, I’ve reconnected with an ability that might otherwise have lain dormant for the rest of my life – and I’ve had the opportunity to develop that ability, spurred on by the knowledge that everything I write has an audience.
- In fact, I’m so steeped in the culture that I can’t see the point of writing anything without an audience!
- Which would make me a very poor blogger-turned-author. All those months of writing in the dark? No thanks!
- Besides, I’m that fatal combination: a perfectionist and a procrastinator. Hence temperamentally ill-equipped!

Final word: I have it on good authority that the best way to land a book deal remains the same as ever:
Write a book!

Labels: blogs, books

Yesterday's little blog talk went just fine, thanks for asking. It was a modest turn-out, but certainly enough to make the event worthwhile, and thanks are due to my hometown posse (including JP, MissMish, Rullsenberg and Cloud) for turning up, lending support, and pouring ale down my neck in the pub over the road afterwards.

However, being my own harshest critic and all and all, my immediate post-talk thought was annoyance that I hadn't managed to squeeze all my material into the allotted 45 minutes. As it was, I spent too long on the first half (essentially a 2007 remix of the talk I gave at Broadway Cinema a while back), and ran out of time to get stuck into the all-new second half, thus spluttering to a rather abrupt halt. Which was a shame, as the second half was all about bloggers and book deals, and the differences between blog writing and novel writing, and I'd spent a long time researching and assembling the material. In fact, it was the second half which I was looking forward to the most. Lesson learnt: do a timed run-through in advance, and chop your material accordingly. (I did this last time, but got a wee bit too complacent this time.)

That said, the talk went well, and I managed to strike the right balance between scripted and off-the-cuff material. It would also have been fun to have extended the Q&A session at the end, which did give me the chance to shoe-horn a couple of sections from the overly abridged second half. And it was good to meet Sally Morten (one of the Shaggy Blog Stories contributors), as well as a previously unknown regular reader (who asked me some rather penetrating questions about blog stalkers, before re-assuring me that his presence at tomorrow night's Ted Leo & The Pharmacists gig didn't mean that he was one of them, ahahaha, dear me no, thanks for reading, see you at the gig).

I left Lowdham with a very strong urge to do this sort of thing on a more regular basis, preferably with at least a 60 minute timeslot. So, readers, if you're hiring, then I'm ready, willing and able...

---

Anyhoo, since I promised to do this yesterday... for the benefit of those who turned up, here's a quick link-list of various points arising.

· Technorati: The State of the Live Web, April 2007.
· The "Online Disinhibition Effect".
· Heather Armstrong on being "Dooced".
· The Bloggies: 2007 Weblog Awards.
· Bloglines: personalised site feed aggregator.
· Hallam Foe: official blog for the forthcoming movie, which received a special preview screening for bloggers last month.
· Belle De Jour - the first UK blog-to-book success story.
· Girl With A One-Track Mind and Petite Anglaise - bloggers turned writers, whose stories both made international headlines in 2006.
· E-mail from Nicholas Hellen of the Sunday Times to Abby Lee (Girl With A One Track Mind).
· Random Acts Of Reality: ambulance worker's blog, now available in book form.
· The Policeman's Blog - another "job blog", now available in book form.
· Wife In The North: offered a £70k book deal less than 6 weeks after starting her blog. (News story in The Times, February 2007.)
· The Friday Project: independent publishers who specialise in the blog-to-book market.
· Lulu.com: self-publishing service.
· The 2007 Lulu Blooker Prize: literary prize for blogs-to-books, aka "blooks".
· Shaggy Blog Stories: self-published UK blogging anthology, conceived and executed in seven days, to raise money for Comic Relief.
· Post of the Week: set up by myself and others, in order to promote great writing on personal blogs.
· Felicity Lowde sentenced to six months' imprisonment for online harrassment of blogger Rachel North: BBC news story; Times news story; Rachel North's reaction; interesting background article on Lowde and "Narcissistic Personality Disorder".
· Blogger.com: allows you to set up your own blog in minutes, at no cost and with no technical know-how.

Labels: blogs, books, journal, linkage

This article originally appeared in the Nottingham Evening Post.

From its humble beginnings in 1956, with just seven participating nations, to the global phenomenon of the 2007 contest, with forty-two songs spread over two nights and an audience of 300 million, dear old Eurovision has come a long way. Twenty years ago, the contest looked like a dying anachronism and a tired old joke – but since the collapse of Communism and the stampede of newly emergent Eastern European nation states, all clamouring for inclusion, its future looks more secure than ever.

It is therefore high time that a comprehensive history was written, detailing the highs and the lows, the triumphs and the tantrums, the classic moments and the long-forgotten monstrosities, that have entertained many of us for as long as we can remember. First published in 2006, John Kennedy O’Connor’s remarkably well-researched book has been updated and re-issued, just in time for the fifty-second finals which take place in Helsinki tomorrow night.

The format is a simple one, as O’Connor takes you through the contest in strict chronological order – picking out the key events, listing the final scoreboards, and illustrating each year with a splendid selection of images. Before you even start to tackle the text, there’s much fun to be had in randomly flicking through the pages, and spotting your favourite personalities: Clodagh Rodgers in hotpants; Dana International in peacock plumage; Katie Boyle in a full-length salmon pink evening gown (and, as we were later to discover, no underwear).

For all its visual lavishness, the book flounders somewhat with the text itself. There’s simply no way of describing fifty-one successive contests without lapsing into repetition, and it’s difficult not to feel your eyes glaze over as you learn that “Belgium had gone for a more modern sound” in 1977, or that the 1989 contest marked “the first time since 1980 that writers had provided songs for two different countries in the same contest”. Fine if you’re a fanatical Eurovision fan, but a bit of a slog for the less committed.

Clearly a fan himself, O’Connor’s overly reverential tone also disappoints. A few more forthright, even controversial opinions would have livened things up no end. Half of the fun of Eurovision is the passion that it inspires, and it’s a shame that the author’s own passion has been hemmed in dry details, solemn statistics, and a cautious reluctance to offend.

Labels: books, eurovision, eurovision2007, eveningpost, popmusic

Thanks to Jonathan, a Shaggy Blog Stories contributor and an actual real life bookshop person, The Book can now be bought over the counter, in an actual, real life bookshop. Lookee here! Clicky the piccy to make it biggy!

Update: Here's a very special Product Endorsement.

And speaking of actual, real life books: I shall be speaking at an actual, real life book festival at the end of June. (No prizes for guessing the subject matter.) More details as and when, but here's what happened at last year's festival.

Labels: books, comicrelief, mediawhoredom

...and, yes, I think that the rattle must have rolled underneath the sofa. No, that's fine, I can reach it from here...

Good. Now that the pram has been fully re-furnished with Items of Play, we can bring this popular little series to its conclusion.

Lucie enquired after my holiday reading. Well, since we were only away for five nights, I only completed the one novel - but that in itself is a rare achievement these days. Tell you what: let me list all the books which I have read (and, crucially, completed) this year.

1. Me Talk Pretty One Day - David Sedaris.

Lent to me by J, my flatmate in Hangzhou. Loved it. Hysterical. Howled my head off.

2. Dress Your Family In Corduroy and Denim - David Sedaris.

Bought and consumed immediately upon completion of #1 above. Lunchtimes in the sandwich shops of Canary Wharf wouldn't have been half so much fun without it.

3. A Short History of Tractors in Ukranian - Marina Lewycka.

Nice retro-style cover art, which meant that it kept catching my eye in the tube. (In the early part of the year, it seemed as if all the nice, I-could-imagine-being-your-friend people on the tube were reading this book at the same time. You know, like Captain Corelli before the film, and that Donna Tartt book from the early 1990s.) Terrific stuff. Finished it on our not-a-honeymoon in the Maldives, and then embarked upon:

4. Johnny Come Home - Jake Arnott.

An early 1970s period piece, with references to gay London life and the commercial end of glam rock - but it was also clear that the author was fractionally too young to have had any of the experiences from himself, so everything felt a fraction too stylised and at one remove. Readable, but ultimately slight and forgettable. Also, the biographical details of the fictional glam rock star were based far too closely upon Gary Glitter (with a dash of Alvin Stardust), which betrayed a slight lack of imagination.

5. Girl With A One Track Mind - Abby Lee.

But of course! Haven't we all! I've said it before and I'll say it again: like reading a travel guide to an exotic, far-off destination which you know you'll never visit. In a word: educational.

6. Nul Points - Tim Moore.

In which Tim Moore, a man with no particular prior interest in Eurovision, sets himself a mission: to track down and interview all of the artists who have scored "nul points" in the contest since Jahn Teigen brought it home for Norway in 1978. The results are a good deal more absorbing, illuminating - and sometimes profoundly disturbing - than he could have imagined, and it is interesting to see these darker undercurrents reveal themselves, subverting the originally intended light comedy, and wiping the smile off Moore's face. You don't have to be a Eurovision fan to enjoy this one - and as such, it stands head and shoulders above anything else which has ever been written about the contest.

7. The Time Traveller's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger.

And this was the one which I actually read on holiday in Marrakech. Not having genned up on it beforehand, I hadn't actually realised that it was about, er, a time traveller and his wife. Whoda thought it? Some very clever plotting towards the beginning (I frequently found myself gasping with wonder at the sheer boldness and complexity of it all) eventually gives way to a more conventional - and, to be honest, rather anti-climactic - love story. Fascinating throughout, but some of the later scenes felt as if they had been written on auto-pilot, and the book could have done with more concentration and concision. It felt as if the author had rather knocked herself out in the first half, and couldn't sustain the required momentum for an equally dazzling second half. But I'm niggling. It was good.

Seven books in one year? Actually, that's not bad going for me these days. I know, shocking...

Labels: books, questions

Kate asks: Have you read Birdsong?

No, Kate. No, I haven't. But it's worse than that.

Many Christmasses ago, I bought the debut novel by Sebastian Faulks - The Girl at the Lion D'Or, newly published in hardback - as a present for my mother. She loved it, and duly complimented me on my selection. We don't share many cultural interests, and so she must have been delighted that, for once, we had been able to forge a connection.

The only trouble was: I hadn't read the book, nor indeed anything else by Sebastian Faulks, other than his weekly columns for the Independent On Sunday. It merely had been inspired guesswork on my part. The cover blurb looked promising, the artwork was nice, and I couldn't readily find any sex or swearing in it. It had said "quality middlebrow read" to me, and so I had taken my chances.

Unable to bluff my way through the literary discussion that my mother seemed intent on initiating, I gently fessed up. No problem. She seemed fine about it.

A few years later, as part of my birthday present, my mother gave me a paperback copy of Faulks's third novel, Birdsong. She had read it, loved it, and was keen to share her reading pleasure with me. As I appreciatively scanned the back cover, she offered up a brief introduction to the book, and expressed the hope that I would enjoy it as much as she did.

I got about thirty pages in, before giving up. Not because of any deficiencies in the writing, but simply because I am a lazy reader with a tiny concentration span, and had put the book aside for slightly too long. In other words, the moment had passed. It happens quite often.

The next time we met, a few months later, my mother brightly asked me how I had got on with the novel.

Shit. I had completely forgotten, and was totally unprepared. I mumbled something about not having finished it, and quickly changed the subject.

She concealed her disappointment well.

I still wince when I think about it.

Labels: books, family, memoir, questions