I have a had a number of people asking me about my books. This would seem the best medium to answer some of those questions. Well, it’s my blog, isn’t it? So read on either in interest, or in my vain hope that you might be convinced to try and read one, one day. Just don’t wait until I die though. I have no interest in being a fabulously famous dead author and funding my grandchildren’s expensive taste in vintage wine.
The best place to start would be to say from the outset, that I have a writing style that has been compared to pickled onions, olives and anchovies. It is different and you cannot confuse the taste when compared to your standard sausages and mash potatoes or fish and chips. For some readers my style may be a little bitter, tart or on the nose! For others it is a style that may not please your reading palette at first, but for some stupid reason you come back for another taste. It is just my style. Too late to change now.
Of my three books now published, I of course have a favourite. But it would be totally out of place for me to tell you which one it is. Suffice to say that the fatter the book the better in my overall view of books in general.
I have not tried to pander to any particular taste, genre or market. For some reason only known to the gods who were proven to be crazy, I ended up completing a book of poetry, a satyrical essay and a novel. But not in that order. They sort of merged and fought tooth and nail with each other for a few nasty years. In the end though, they all came out of the end of the tunnel and retained their own individual styles and characteristics.
If poetry is your go, Loss, Limbo, Life and Love might waste a rainy and cold Sunday afternoon for you. It is a journal of verses ranging from suicidal to depressed, to alcoholic, to sad, to anesthetised to sort of happy and then for some crazy reason, some bliss to finish off. An out of love, in love, out of love, in love again read.
An Uneducated View of Sex, Food and Politics is a rampage. Totally unconnected thoughts glued together by ether, gas, methane and fresh air and presented in a demented order representing my own fragmented, random and dislocated thought processes. Or process. Singular really is more honest. In essence it is expressing my frustration about knowing far, far less than my better educated children. Oh, and it has recipes too.
The third book, Nobody’s Fault is a true novel. I might say a very dark and disturbing account of deep, hidden and sometimes embarrassingly personal thoughts and feelings we all have and experience, but try to hide in times of stress and emotional destruction. Be warned though. It starts fluffily light in the style of a social documentary and gradually darkens into a thriller of human, personal and emotional destruction. If you are already under medical treatment for manic depression, probably best to pick one of the other two.
So, hopefully this has answered some of your questions. Of course you can have a sneak preview at Google Books, or Amazon Look Inside. However, if you want to know the ending, you might just have to order a copy. Or convince a friend to buy one and then borrow it and never return it. Whichever.