Thursday, 29 September 2016

Christmas is coming and Colgers needs new shoes

Yes I know. It's not even October yet. But my local supermarket already has Christmas chocolates in stock (who keeps choc in the house for three months without eating it??) and I've heard stories of places already putting trees and Christmas cards on sale. Give it a couple more years and they'll start draping the tinsel over the Easter eggs I reckon.



However, I am mentioning it now in case you fancy buying one of my really quite odd colouring books as a pressie for someone really quite odd that you know/love/like/want to punish.


Colgeroons has 21 unique A4-sized pictures to colour in. It's somewhat of a departure from other, more traditional colouring books. For a start, there are no secret gardens or mandala covered elephants. And there are no cute and fluffy mammals or pretty birdies. There are, however, alien Mona Lisas, headless scientists, interplanetary wedding photos and rude gnomes. But not too rude (it's suitable for kids).



You can order direct from me for just £12 (that includes P&P).

Or, to make it extra special, for just £25 (price includes P&P) I'll sign your copy, dedicate it to whoever the book is for and draw a unique doodle of your choice inside! So if you want to give someone a book containing a drawing of a T Rex riding a unicycle juggling four kippers - this is the gift for you!

Unique artwork and a colouring book for the price of a takeaway? And for just over a quid a page? You'd be mad not to.



Just email me at mail@stevecolgan.com and tell me what you want doodled and who the book is for. Then use that same email address to deposit the money in my Paypal account and the book will be on its way. You can also pay by money transfer or cheque - email for details.



Go on. Treat yourself.

Or don't.



 

Friday, 23 September 2016

My Top 5 British Comedy Novels

There's a surprising lack of new British comedy in fiction these days. There was a time when bookshop shelves groaned under the weight of rib-ticklers by Michael Frayn, Richard Gordon, Stella Gibbons, E F Benson ... but now, not so much. Or so it seems to me anyway. Mind you, finding a good bookshop isn't so easy either.

There's still a lot of good comedy writing around. However, it seems to me to have been pushed away from the mainstream into particular genres of books. There's a lot of humour in children's and young adults' books, for example. And there are a lot of very funny writers, such as Helen Fielding, Jenny Colgan, Wendy Holden, Candace Bushnell, Sophie Kinsella etc., who produce work for the female reader market. Comedy has also flourished in the worlds of science fiction and fantasy, boasting such superstars as Douglas Adams, Terry Pratchett, Jasper fforde, Tom Holt, Robert Rankin et al. But when it comes to generalist mainstream comedy, I see little. Yes, there are authors like Jonathan Coe, John Niven and Nick Hornby who write great books that have a comic edge to them. But they are few and far between.Where are the new John Mortimers and Tom Sharpes? Who is taking up the mantle of David Nobbs, George MacDonald Fraser and Stella Gibbons?

A couple of years ago the Daily Telegraph ran a list of the 15 best comedy books of all time (here). It's interesting to note that the most recent book in their list was 20 years old (1996's Bridget Jones' Diary).

I used to look forward to every new Reggie Perrin or Wilt or Flashman book in eager anticipation. But, with so many of the great humorists behind such books now sadly gone, I find myself struggling to find the next novel that will have me tittering out loud on the train. That's part of the reason why I decided to write A Murder To Die For and the other novels that will (hopefully) follow it; to add a much-needed smile to that commute to work when all around are reading doom and gloom in their newspapers. It's not arrogance on my part or a desire to join the hallowed ranks of my favourite comedy novelists that prompted me. It's simply the hope that I can make people laugh in the same way that the authors listed below made me laugh.

So, here is my personal - and it can only be personal - Top 5 British comedy novels. I've deliberately excluded sci-fi and fantasy here or the list would have read: Douglas Adams, Douglas Adams, Douglas Adams ... I can go back to his books time and time again and always find something new to chuckle at.

The photos are of my own beaten, bashed and well-thumbed copies.

5 - Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K Jerome 

I must have read this book 20 times. It's one of only two books that I am not ashamed to admit that I've paid quite a lot for in order to own a first edition (the other being One-Upmanship by Stephen Potter, the 1952 book that inspired the Ealing comedy School for Scoundrels). Jerome's classic tale of idle chaps (and a dog) taking a short holiday on the Thames for their health will always make me smile. The humour is surprisingly modern and it really is hard sometimes to remember that this is a book from 1889. There are so many wonderful comic set pieces and it's a book that everyone should read at least once. Or, if you fancy an audio experience instead, search out either the audiobook, or the Olivier Award nominated one man show, both by Jeremy Nicholas. I don't think his interpretation can be beaten.


4 - The Pyrates by George MacDonald Fraser 

MacDonald Fraser is best known for his Flashman books, of course, in which he takes up the story of Rugby School's most notorious bully. I love them all but The Pyrates is a stand-alone gem. Long before Pirates of the Caribbean came along, MacDonald Fraser had already brilliantly lampooned the genre. He introduces us to the ridiculously square-jawed and handsome hero Long Ben Avery and his quest to gather all of the pieces of the Madagascar Crown and to win the heart of fair Lady Vanity. Along the way we meet the psychotic Firebeard, canny Calico Jack Rackham and the Gucci booted and impossibly buxom Black Sheba. He creates a fantasy alternative universe in which pirates listen to Tortuga FM and have union meetings, and where a buccaneer can't end a sentence without adding 'wi' a curse!' It's a joyous read from bow to stern and it wonderfully pays tribute to the Golden Age of Hollywood and a hundred stories from the Boy's Own Paper.


3 - The Molesworth Saga by Geoffrey Willans and Ronald Searle

Chiz! Chiz! Why isn't Molesworth at the topp at Number 1? To be honest, all of my Top 5 are so beloved that, frankly, you could shuffle them and I'd still be happy. The four Molesworth books, illustrated energetically by the late great Ronald Searle, never stop being funny. If you've never heard of St Custard's School, think of it as the boys' equivalent of St Trinians (also a Searle creation). And even though many anachronisms of the English public school system may have gone (although many haven't) we can still revel in the childhood adventures of Molesworth, Molesworth 2, Peason, Grabber, Fotherington-Thomas and the masters. It's also worth seeking out Simon Brett's very funny tribute, Molesworth Rites Again, in which we catch up with the little rascal as an adult. Great British comedy classics all, as any fule kno.

2 - Hot Water by P G Wodehouse

How do you pick a favourite P G Wodehouse novel? He wrote 71 of them. Plus there were plays, short stories and lots more. Should I pick a story about Blandings Castle? Or Jeeves and Wooster? Or Ukridge? Or Psmith? In the end I went for the one that made me laugh the most on first reading (they've all made me laugh). Hot Water doesn't feature any of Wodehouse's more famous characters. It centres instead on one Packy Franklyn, a millionaire ex-American footballer, engaged to Lady Beatrice Bracken and staying in England. A chance meeting with a publicly booze-free Senator leads to all hell breaking loose when a letter written by the Senator to his personal bootlegger is used as a tool for blackmail. As always it's farce of the first water with incompetent safe-blowers, idiot ambassadors, confused identities and, always, Wodehouse's trademark eye for the perfect metaphor. Set in France at the seaside resort of Ch√Ęteau Blissac, this was a book written in 1932 at the height of Plum's powers. And it shows.


1 - The Throwback by Tom Sharpe

I first encountered Tom Sharpe when I was a young police officer in the early 1980s. I was sitting on a police riot coach during the Brixton Uprising; we were often held on such coaches for hours on end as we waited to be deployed to tackle pockets of disorder. A colleague had finished reading his copy of Blott on the Landscape and offered it to me and I loved it immediately. It was savage. It was clever. It was hilarious. I laughed from start to finish. And the laughter helped me to cope with what was a dangerous and stressful time. I went on to read everything that Sharpe wrote many times over. And it was almost impossible to choose a favourite as he only wrote 16 novels and he didn't ever write a bad book. In the end, it came down to a shortlist of Ancestral Vices, Vintage Stuff and the book that won, The Throwback. If I look at things objectively, I'd probably have to say that Wilt is his best book. But The Throwback just makes me laugh more. It's the tale of Lockhart Flawse, a temporarily disinherited young nobleman sent out into the world by the grandfather who raised him and challenged to find and identify his father so that he can be thrashed to within an inch of his life. Along the way, the terrifyingly unworldly Lockhart destroys the lives of many people in a variety of increasingly terrible but hilarious ways and wins the love of his life. Throughout the book you'll find dogs on LSD, human taxidermy and IRA explosions all added into the gloriously anarchic mix. I've read this book so often that I've destroyed two different editions (both with cover illustrations by the great Paul Sample). IN fact, all of my Tom Sharpe books have been read so often that I recently treated myself to a new complete set of books and the e-books because they don't wear out. The saddest thing about them is knowing that there will be no more.


Naturally, there were plenty of also-rans that might have made this list ... 1066 and All That by W C Sellar and R J Yeatman, The Ascent of Rum Doodle by W E Bowman, Diary of a Nobody by George and Weedon Grossmith, The Bottle Factory Outing by Beryl Bainbridge, Doctor in the House by Richard Gordon, The Commitments by Roddy Doyle, Cold Comfort Farm by Stella Gibbons, W G Grace's Last Case by Willie Rushton, Nice Work by David Lodge, The Foxglove Saga by Auberon Waugh, The Virgin Soldiers by Leslie Thomas, The Uncommon Reader by Alan Bennett, The Better World of Reginald Perrin by David Nobbs, Bridget Jones' Diary by Helen Fielding, The Darling Buds of May by H E Bates, Towards the end of the Morning by Michael Frayn, Mapp and Lucia by E F Benson, Lucky Jim by Kingsley Amis, Puckoon by Spike Milligan ... to name just a few.

There's no right or wrong to 'Best of' lists of course. Like art, taste in comedy is subjective. But I do advise you to read all of the books I've mentioned. They're all quite brilliant in their different ways.

And I hope that I can convince you to pledge a small amount of cash towards A Murder To Die For, my own humble attempt at writing a mainstream farce. I'm crowdfunding the book through the innovative publishing company Unbound and I'm 79% of the way there already so there isn't far to go!

And do tell me ... what would be in your Top 5?




Tuesday, 20 September 2016

The Great British Bake Off and the Power of Nice

Two interesting things happened last week that prompted this blogpost. The first was that The Museum Of Curiosity - QI's sister show on BBC Radio 4 - won a Rose D'or in Berlin (Naturally, I was very happy about this as I work on the show as a researcher/writer). The second thing was that the BBC lost the UK's most popular TV show The Great British Bake Off to Channel 4. The public outcry was extraordinary and prompted more than one commentator to point out that if the British public got as agitated about the slow but steady sell-off of the NHS then maybe it would be a lot safer. But people were angry. And they were sad. 'It won't be the same!' they cried. And they may have a point. Bake Off could lose its most defining factor.

Its niceness.


Niceness is a quality that programme makers overlook far too often. And they're missing a trick because people like nice shows.

The Museum Of Curiosity works because it's a kind of reverse Room 101; instead of having people on to bitch about the things that annoy them, we have people on to talk about things that make them feel inspired, happy or astonished. That's why the show regularly attracts people to appear on it (despite the pitiful radio appearance fees) like Sir Terry Pratchett, Kate Adie, Sir David Frost, Dr Alice Roberts, Buzz Aldrin, Helen Sharman, Neil Gaiman and many more. And look at some of the most popular shows on TV ... Strictly Come Dancing. Bargain Hunt. QI. Pointless. George Carke's Amazing Spaces. Would I Lie To You? Bake Off. They're all shows that make you smile from start to finish. There's no nastiness; even Craig Revel Horwood's pantomime histrionics have a knowing smile behind them and the public boo and cheer along with the joke. He is a world away from Simon Cowell's flat and emotionless put downs or Gordon Ramsay's sweary abuse.

It's interesting to look at the most watched TV programmes of 2015 - the most recent annual figures we have - and note that eight of the Top 10 are episodes of Bake Off. The other two are the finals of Strictly and Britain's Got Talent. From 11 to 20 it's all Bake Off, Strictly and BGT - except for an anniversary episode of Eastenders. The only other shows to make it into the Top 40 are Downton Abbey, Call The Midwife and the finales of I'm A Celebrity - Get Me Out of Here! and Broadchurch. The vast majority are nice shows.

I'll admit that I'm a nice-oholic. My TV viewing invariably sways away from shows where people are rude, abusive, angry, combative or deliberately controversial. I can't watch soap operas any more because all of the warmth and humour has been replaced by 30 minutes of people shouting at each other. I can't watch 'misery porn' shows about bailiffs taking someone's furniture away or about beaches that kill, holiday nightmares or botched plastic surgery. I avidly avoid shows that focus on the negative and perpetuate the idea that life is shit - so no Grumpy Old Men for me. And no Can't Pay, We'll Take It Away and no Benefits Street either. I hate reality shows like The Apprentice that turn greed and arrogance into supposed entertainment (and it gave us Katie bloody Hopkins). I can't even watch Masterchef any more. Instead you'll find me watching Masterchef Australia where the judges are kind and supportive and, as the result, the contestants put up food that the British show would kill for.


The show has a real Bake Off vibe to it. Even the guest judges join in the niceness.The hugely scary Marco Pierre White was guest judge in Week 1 of the current series (showing weekday evenings on the W Channel). During a tough team challenge where the contestants had to run a real restaurant for an evening service he asked them 'Do you want me to go easy on you or make you sweat?' The contestants chose the latter and he put them through their paces. One or two were reduced to tears by the pressure. Were they mocked? No. Were they laughed at? No. Were they shouted at? No. Marco spoke to them, encouraged them, built up their confidence and they went back to work and they succeeded. And this week we have Nigella Lawson as guest judge. When someone did well yesterday she hugged and kissed them. When one contestant - a huge Nigella fan - did badly in front of her hero the domestic goddess didn't say 'That's terrible' or 'You didn't do very well.' Instead, she pointed out that 'If you don't make mistakes you stop learning' at which point the other judges - all top chefs and food critics - chimed in that they had all made terrible mistakes at some point in their careers. It made that contestant feel better and they worked doubly hard in the next challenge. That's my kind of cookery show, not some top chef throwing a contestant's food in the bin and calling them 'a f*cking waste of space'. Maybe that's why Masterchef Australia attracts the cream of world chefs to appear on the show? Last year Heston Blumenthal set the challenge for the final episode and then employed the winner at his Fat Duck restaurant. He's back again this year, I'm pleased to say. I wish that the British incarnation would follow the same model. If it did, I'd watch it again.

I was interested to read, a few days ago, that Bake Off's cosy feelgood factor is largely down to Mel and Sue who flatly refused to make the show overly dramatic. They actually threatened to walk off the show in Series 1 if the producers insisted on them bringing out the human drama. "We felt uncomfortable with it and we said 'We don't think you've got the right presenters'", Sue told The Telegraph newspaper in a recent interview. "I'm proud that we did that, because what we were saying is 'Let's try this a different way' - and no one ever cried again. Maybe they cry because their souffle collapsed, but nobody's crying because someone's going 'Does this mean a lot about your grandmother?' Bringing up dead relatives at stressful times is a time-honoured technique for introducing tension into a television show, but it's no way to treat your family." And even when the contestants do have a breakdown, Mel and Sue make sure it doesn't get to air by blocking the camera's view of the contestant and by swearing a lot so that the segment won't make the final edit. It's just one of the many reasons that Bake Off works - kindness, consideration, niceness.


People want to see nice shows. Channel 4 paid £75 million to buy Bake Off - the nicest of the nice - so they, presumably, agree. Time will tell if their money was well spent; after all, a TV show isn't just a format - it's the sum of its parts: good scripts, good content, the right presenters, the right 'feel'. As Top Gear has learned to its cost, you have to have all four. I'll confess that I'm sad about Bake Off's move to Channel 4 but, had the presenters made the move too, I might be happier. Without Mel and Sue and possibly Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood, the show won't be the same. That isn't necessarily the end of the world so long as the new presenters maintain the winning format. But the minute it turns into the kind of mawkish slush that Mel and Sue fought so hard to keep out of the show, it will fail. It will also fail if the judges try to do a Gordon Ramsay or a Simon Cowell. Nastiness is old hat. The viewing figures say it all.

There's a well-known, and possible apocryphal, story about a teacher who writes out the Nine Times Table on the board in front of her class and gets the answer to 6 x 9 wrong. The class sniggers behind her back. So she asks them, 'What are you all laughing at?' And the class replies, 'You got 6 x 9 wrong'. The teacher then says, 'Yes I did. Deliberately. I wanted to teach you all something about life. Isn't it interesting that you all were keen to point out my one mistake and yet no one congratulated me on the eleven equations that I got right? I got far more right than I got wrong but all you focused on was my mistake. That, sadly, is how life works. Make a mistake and everyone will point it out. Do good and hardly anyone will say a word about it, let alone reward you. But the reality is that there's far more good than bad in the world - once you realise that you'll be happier people."

And, to quote from my most recent book Why Did The Policeman Cross The Road?

'I recently met Jimmy Wales, the founder and public face of Wikipedia. Here is a man whose aim is to ‘give every single person on the planet free access to the sum of all human knowledge’ which, as aims go, is pretty damned good. We talked about the ‘wiki’ philosophy, the fact that absolutely anyone can alter, add or delete information on Wikipedia and I asked him whether this was a worry. Wasn’t it possible that bad people could misuse that kind of free access to do bad things? ‘I don’t think so’, he said, ‘Wikipedia works on the radical assumption that mostly people are okay. If you read commentary in newspapers and on the internet, you weep for the future of the species as it seems there are so many horrible people out there. But if you really think about everyone around you, out of every 1000 people you meet, 990 of them will be perfectly nice, maybe another nine will be extremely annoying but there’s only maybe one in a thousand that is actually malicious or a troublemaker. And yet we go through life designing everything around the bad people, locking things down. We should be designing things around the majority of good people and then deal with the bad people when we need to.’

 I couldn’t agree more.'

I don't need TV shows that focus on the negative. The world is already full of people doing that. I want shows that make me feel good. Shows that I learn from. Shows that inspire me. I hope that Bake Off survives its transition. And I hope that programme makers make a lot more of the same.

That will be very nice indeed.



Monday, 19 September 2016

Name Game

It won’t be apparent to you at the moment but, once you get your mitts on a copy of my novel, A Murder To Die For, you’ll see that many of the characters sport unusual surnames.  This is no accident. I love uncommon and unusual surnames. And names are important when you’re creating characters. Imagine, for example, if Ian Fleming had decided to name his most famous creation Trevor Lillicrap instead of James Bond. Now, there’s nothing wrong with Trevor Lillicrap; it’s a perfectly respectable name. But if you were writing a spy thriller tomorrow would you call your womanising, hell-raising, licence to kill character Trevor Lillicrap? Or Colin Bamforth? Or Peter Tubby? 

A name can work as a kind of shortcut for the reader. Rightly or wrongly, we associate certain names with certain characteristics and traits. If I write a name – say, Pamela Utterthwaite – you’ll form an impression of what Pamela looks and sounds like. If I call her Nikki Crick or Amelia Courtnay-Huskins you’ll form different impressions. Partly, this is due to a kind of mild synaesthesia, a curious blending of our senses, that affects us all. It means that our brains merge sound and vision. For example, which of these characters is called Bouba and which is Kiki?

 

Chances are that you’ll have picked the name Kiki for the spiky figure and Bouba for the blobby figure – 99% of people do, wherever they are from in the world and whatever language they speak - because the names ‘sound’ spiky and blobby. Some scientists believe that this facility for ‘seeing’ sounds may have helped to kickstart the evolution of language.

Picking the right names for your characters can be fun. It can also be hugely frustrating when you can't find exactly the right one. One of the main characters in my novel is a retired police officer. I see him as looking a bit like Des Lynam or Sam Elliott and I've spent months agonising over his name. Should he be Hawker or Shunter or Strapper? Should he be Ted, Geoff, Mike or Terry?  At the moment he's Ted Shunter. That may change before publication.

One way to find the right name is to ask your readers. One of the joys of crowdfunding a book is that the author and the people who pledge their support by donating money get to chat. And, it was thanks to just such a chat with a chap called Mark Vent, that I found the perfect name for a group of characters. A Murder To Die For is set at a murder mystery festival in the village where crime fiction writer Agnes Crabbe lived her whole life. Her most famous literary creation is the lady detective Miss Millicent Cutter. And thanks to Mark, I now know that fans of Miss Cutter are called 'Millies'.

When trying to find the right name you can take a kind of nominative deterministic route – picking a name that in some way reflects the person’s character – by creating a killer called Butcher or a sex worker called Gotobed or a torturer called Payne, but that is a little obvious. Or you can reference other people or characters that inspired your character, like Dan Brown did when he named Sir Leigh Teabing in The Da Vinci Code; the name is a semi-anagram made from Richard Leigh and Michael Baigent, the authors of Holy Blood, Holy Grail;the book that influenced Brown’s plot. And the name of Hugh Laurie’s hugely popular TV character  House is an homage to Sherlock Holmes due to the nature of his deductive reasoning. The character even lives at 221B Baker Street.

Because my book is set in a fictional village in a fictional county that is quite old-fashioned and olde-worlde, I deliberately set out to find lovely old English surnames, particularly ones that aren’t so common these days. And I found some great examples: Tradescant, Wilderspin, Handibode, Nithercott, Gawkrodger. There’s something lovely about the way that three syllables roll off the tongue - there’s a kind of poetry to some names isn’t there?  Horningtop, Cockering, Berrycloth, Pomerance.

Of course, they weren’t all three syllables long; the book also has the names Greeley, Jaine, Febland, Quisty, Sallow, Raynott and many more. They're all uncommon names though; if you're looking for Smiths, Robinsons or Williamses, this isn't the book for you.

Interesting names turn up in all sorts of places: the credits at the end of a TV show or movie; in books and history documentaries; and, occasionally, in person. One particular day in the 1990s, when I was still a policeman, I met two neighbours engaged in a bitter dispute over the position of a garden fence. They were called Boggis and Sparrowcock. What a fantastic buddy cop movie duo they would be! Another source is churchyards. We filmed part of the promotional video for A Murder To Die For in the churchyard of St Botolph’s (another great name) in Bradenham, Buckinghamshire near where I live, and I found these cracking names:

   

 Christopher Robin St Quintin Wall and Francesca Giovanna Maria Fummi.

 

Nigel Montagu Finch-Hatton.

   

Vice Admiral Mortimer Lestrange Silver. 

I also have a particular fondness for names that are pronounced in a way that defies their spelling. It's a lovely British quirk that we pronounce Marjoribanks as ‘march-banks’, Chalmondeley as ‘chum-lee’, and Featherstonehaugh, bizarrely, as ‘fan-shore’. Another famous one is Menzies, which, as this limerick cleverly shows, is pronounced in a most counterintuitive way: 

A lively young damsel named Menzies 
Said 'Do you know what this thenzies?' 
Her aunt, with a gasp, 
Replied: 'It's a wasp, 
And you're holding the end where the stenzies.'

One of my readers, Christopher Richardson, came across the name Eigelsheim, which is, apparently, pronounced as 'eye-sun'.He also told me that: 'A friend of mine had to contact a senior soldier at a local barracks to attend a party for his father. His name was Horseflesh. So he phoned, asked for him, was put through by the receptionist and was greeted with, 'It's hoe-flay goddammit. Hoe-flay!' 

I may make a feature of these kinds of names in a future novel. As it is, my fictional county of South Herewardshire should properly be pronounced as ‘hur-wurd-shur’ and the town of Bowcester, which features in the book, is pronounced as ‘boaster’. 


Have you come across any fantastic names? If so, leave a comment and share them on here. I’d love to hear them. :D




Saturday, 17 September 2016

The Nearly Invisible Man

Fancy reading a short story starring two of the characters from my forthcoming novel A Murder To Die For?

Of course you do.

So, click here and you can!


If you enjoy it, please consider throwing a few quid at the novel here. By pre-ordering it in this way, you'll be helping to make the book happen. It's already 77% funded so not long to wait either.

And helping to bring a new book into the world is a very fine thing for anyone to do.




Friday, 16 September 2016

A Philosopher walks into a Blog ...

Here's something a little different. Every so often I'm going to feature guest bloggers writing about things that they find interesting, amusing or just plain weird. I'll also let people plug their new books or their crowdfunding projects because, as I know from experience, every opportunity for exposure helps.

Today it's the turn of writer and philosopher Dr Martin Cohen. Enjoy!

__________________________________________________________________

So straightaway, here’s a classic joke to start this blogpost off with:

Three men – a totally bald cook nicknamed ‘Baldy’, a very learned professor called ‘Brains’, and a barber with a thick black beard, were going on a long journey and had to camp out at night. They decided to take it in shifts to watch over their valuables. The barber took the first one, but soon got bored. So to pass the time, he shaved the head of the professor - and then woke him up to take his turn on the second shift. The professor got up, rubbed his head in puzzlement and then exclaimed: ‘What an idiot you are, barber‘ he said, ‘you’ve woken up Baldy instead of me!‘ 

 It’s not such a great joke, agreed – but incredibly, it's one of the oldest jokes around. This, we might say, is a joke with a pedigree. A version of it appears in the Philogelos, or Laughter Lover, which is a collection of some 265 jokes, written in Greek and compiled some 1,600 odd years ago. So it’s old. Nevertheless, despite its antiquity, the style of this and at least some of the other jokes is very familiar, even if they are peopled with different stereotypes. The favourite targets of the authors of the Laughter Lover are the scholasticos, or absent-minded professors, along with eunuchs (men who have been castrated,which apparently was a significant category in those days), people from Abdera (a city in Thrace, on the border of Bulgaria and Greece) and men with bad breath.


'I say, I say, I say ...'

Not tempted? Try this other example, which again, I have lightly adapted:

A traveler is staying at a monastery, where the Order has a vow of silence and can only speak at the evening meal. On his first night as they are eating, one of the monks stands up and shouts ‘Twenty two!’. Immediately the rest of the monks break out into raucous laughter. Then they return to new silence. A little while later, another shouts out ‘One hundred and ten’, to even more uproarious mirth. This goes on for two more nights with no real conversation, just different numbers being shouted out, followed by ribald laughing and much downing of ale. At last, no longer able to contain his curiosity the traveler asks the Abbot what it is all about. The Abbot explains that the monastery has only one non-religious book in it, which consists of a series of jokes each headed with its own number. Since all the monks know them by heart, instead of telling the jokes they just call out the number. Hearing this, the traveler decides to have a look at the book for himself. He goes to the library and carefully makes a note of the numbers of the funniest jokes. Then, that evening he stands up and calls out the number of his favourite joke – which is ‘seventy six’. But nobody laughs, instead there is an embarrassed silence. The next night he tries again, ‘One hundred and thirteen!’, he exclaims loudly into the silence - but still no response. After the meal he asks the Abbott if the jokes he picked were not considered funny by the monks? ‘Ooh no’, says the Abbott. ‘The jokes are funny – it’s just that some people just don't know how to tell them!’ 

I like that one! Clearly, humour is something that transcends communities and periods in history. It seems to draw on something common to all peoples. Yet jokes are also clearly things rooted in their times and places. At the time of this joke, monks and secret books were serious business. But the first philosophical observation to make and principle to note is that both these jokes involved one of those ‘ah-ha!’ moments.

Humour often involves a sudden, unexpected shift in perspective forcing a rapid reassessment of assumptions. Philosophy, at its best, does much the same thing. Which brings me to my current project and the prompt for this blogpost: I'm just finishing writing a book on food and diet called Thin(k)! The Philosophical Diet that, like Stevyn’s new book, is being crowd-funded at Unbound. It’s got a few jokes in it but mainly lots of interesting insights that I think also include a bit of an ah-ha moment: for example, would you believe manufacturers add stealth fibre to food causing bloating and indigestion? Or that white bread is worse than sugar for putting the pounds on? Ah-ha indeed! But it’s no joke. As we all know, per Michael Pollan et al, food has instead become not just a jolly matter for cooks and gourmets - but a huge social, political and ethical issue.

Now the thing about crowd-funding a book, is we need to get readers excited enough in advance to sign up for the book - only then does it get published! So if you are curious, please check out the fun *but informative* little video that goes with my project here, and ‘help make it happen’!




Thursday, 15 September 2016

Happy Birthday Agatha!

It's Agatha Christie's birthday today.

She died in 1976 at the age of 86 and, staggeringly, produced 73 novels (66 murder mystery), 28 collections, 16 plays, 2 biographies and a handful of broadcast works and poems in her lifetime. But, as prolific as she was, the quality never seemed to suffer, She is still the third most published author in human history, having sold over two billion books - a record broken only by the Bible and Shakespeare.

I'm currently crowdfunding a comedy novel which pays homage to Christie. I've been a fan of her work for longer than I can remember. In fact, one of my earliest television memories is of seeing  Rene Clair's 1945 version of And Then There Were None on a wintry weekend evening (a dark and stormy night?) with my family and being thrilled by it.


I've since read all of her crime novels and also those of her 'Golden Age' contemporaries - Margery Allingham, Ngaio Marsh, Dorothy L Sayers and more. And, of course, I've read Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories too. So, when I came to write what will be my first published novel, a murder mystery seemed to be the natural genre to attempt. A 30 year career in the police service helped too; I've seen more than a few homicides and hundreds of crime scenes. Throwing my knowledge of real-life policing against my love of murder mystery fiction created the delicious tension from which most of the novel's comedy is generated.

A Murder To Die For is set at a murder mystery festival weekend celebrating the life and works of crime writer Agnes Crabbe - my thinly-disguised version of Agatha Christie. Crabbe's most popular fictional detective is Miss Millicent Cutter, a younger and saucier Miss Marple, and most of the festival-goers turn up dressed as her, Then, on the first day of the festival, one of the fans is murdered. It then becomes a race between the procedurally-driven police and the murder mystery fans to solve the crime, a job made much more difficult by the fact that the victim, witnesses, and very possibly the murderer, are all dressed as Miss Cutter. There are also echoes of Christie's long-running play The Mousetrap in my plot.

Writing a murder mystery is no easy task and, while going through the process, my respect for Christie grew exponentially. To turn out at least one new crime fiction novel every year for 66 years is a staggering feat. Admittedly, the method of killing is very similar in many of her books - having been a chemist, her knowledge of poisons was excellent - but the plots are always extremely clever and leave the reader guessing until the last page. Writing such a novel requires an extraordinary level of planning. You need to know where every person is at any one time. You need to create back-stories and descriptions to ensure that the players don't act out of character. I even needed to create a map of my fictional village to ensure that people's movements make sense, If Christie was able to keep all of that content in her head while writing (and writing without the luxury of word processing don't forget), she must have been some kind of genius.

But she was a genius. And she was the first British woman to learn how to surf standing up. Really. She was.


Another reason for writing a murder mystery novel was timing. This year it's Agatha Christie's 125th birthday, the 120th anniversary of Ngaio Marsh's birth and the 50th anniversary of Margery Allingham's death. But, more importantly for me, it's also the 25th anniversary of my father's untimely death (as I wrote about a few days ago on this blog). Dad was writing his first murder mystery when he died and I've incorporated his unfinished novel into my own.

And because my book has now passed the 75% funded mark, I decided to run a competition for my subscribers to say 'thanks' for getting me this far. Naturally, it's Agatha Christie themed.


This poster contains 12 hidden Agatha Christie novel titles (left click to see a larger version). What competition entrants have to do is find all 12 and email  their answers to me at stevyncolgan@gmail.com by the end of 30th September. All correct entries go into a hat and a winner will be drawn out on 1st October. The prize is quite nice; the winner gets a signed copy of the book, two invites to the launch party (which will be a murder mystery), a tour of Buckinghamshire and Oxfordshire visiting places that inspired the book (including Christie's grave and quite a few pubs!) and they'll get to name a character in the book.

The competition is only open to people who have pledged money - at any level - to crowdfund the book. But that doesn't stop you pledging and becoming eligible, does it?

So happy birthday Dame Agatha. And thank you for 125 years of entertainment, inspiration and murder most foul.




Wednesday, 14 September 2016

Golden Rosy Smiles

I had some great news last night. The Museum of Curiosity - the BBC4 radio show that I research and write for - won best talk show at the Rose D'Or international awards event in Berlin last night. Host John Lloyd and producer Richard Turner were there to collect the prize.



Museum is a wonderfully collaborative show to work on. Everyone has a say in how the show is put together and the guests love doing it because, unlike other shows that are combative or ask people to focus on the negative, Museum asks people - entertainers, writers, scientists, poets etc. - to tell the world about something great, something that fills them with awe. John Lloyd, our host (and boss) has said before that Museum is maybe a little closer to his original concept for QI than QI is.


 L to R: James Harkin, Sarah Millican (curator for winning episodes), Anne Miller, me, Richard Turner (front)


I've since moved on from Museum having done several series and am now employed as one of the eight scriptwriters for QI. But the radio show will always remain one of my very favourite things and it has allowed me to meet and work with so many wonderful people including Sir Terry Pratchett, Buzz Aldrin, Sir David Frost and many many more.

I am so pleased the show has won such a richly deserved award.




Tuesday, 13 September 2016

The Best Little Bookshop in Bucks

Five minutes drive from where I live there's a pretty little village called Penn. It's famous for several things (1) Ruth Ellis's murder victim, David Blakely, is buried in Penn Churchyard (Ruth herself - the last woman to be hanged in the UK - is buried just a few miles up the road in Amersham) as is Alison Uttley who wrote The Little Grey Rabbit books; (2) It's home to a number of popular celebs including Mary Berry, Pauline Quirke and Gabby Logan; and (3) the Cottage Bookshop.

You might have seen the bookshop on your TV if, like me, you're a Midsomer Murders fan. The show is filmed all around my part of Buckinghamshire and Oxfordshire and the shop featured in an episode called A Tale of Two Hamlets. It also featured in an episode of Chucklevision but we'll move on, shall we?


I popped in this morning as I do once a month to pick up some bargains. All the books are secondhand, they're all reasonably priced and THERE ARE SO MANY. Imagine a three bedroom cottage. Now imagine every available inch of space - on two floors - filled with floor to ceiling bookshelves and every windowsill piled up with books. That's the Cottage Bookshop.

I apologise for the couple of slightly fuzzy images. Hands shaking with excitement.




I went along this morning with fellow author Sarah K Marr (whose amazing book All The Perverse Angels will be out soon). It was her first visit. It won't be her last I'm sure.

And I got some great buys - The Indiscretions of Archie by P G Wodehouse, The Complete McAuslan by George MacDonald Fraser (author of the 'Flashman' books), The Captain's Table by Richard Gordon (famous for the 'Doctor' books), Gamesmanship by Stephen Potter (Potter's earlier work 'Lifemanship' became the hugely successful Ealing comedy School for Scoundrels) and a lovely little collection of Ronald Searle cartoons called Back to the Slaughterhouse. £18 the lot.



I am so very lucky to have this on my doorstep. Book shops are closing down all over the country and browsing is one of life's simple pleasures. It's also how people discover new authors. Once we had proper record shops on every High Street and I discovered many new bands that I still love to this day thanks to browsing. And bookshops performed the same function; an eye-catching cover would often lead me to pick up a book I might not have heard of. Sadly, sites like Amazon are killing the bookshops because the books are cheaper and they're delivered to your door. But equally damaging is the fact that people visit webshops when they already know what they're going to buy; there's no 'wandering around the store looking at covers' to be had on-line and browsing is slowly disappearing. And that's a tragedy.


 

Oh, and Sarah found the best book title. I thought I'd won when I found a book called Vermin from the Skies. But she beat me fair and square.


Now to save up my pennies for next month's visit. 




Monday, 12 September 2016

Dad's Legacy of Murder ...

My next book A Murder To Die For is a novel. It's a comic farce about a murder mystery that takes place during a murder mystery festival. And, rather surprisingly, it's a murder mystery novel inside a murder mystery novel.

This year marks the 25th anniversary of my father dying unexpectedly, and tragically young at the age of just 51, and with one of his great ambitions unrealised. Like me, Dad was a career cop (I was a policeman in London for 30 years). He specialised in homicide. And, like me, he was passionate about writing. Under his pen-name of Myghal Colgan (his birthname was Michael), he had many articles and features published, mostly in Cornish and country interest magazines and newspapers. But, deep down, he wanted to tell stories. And, being a proud Cornishman, he wanted to tell stories about Cornish people set in Cornish locations.


In the mid-late 1980s he began work on a novel. In order to ensure that the historical details were correct, he spent over a year on pre-internet research; visiting libraries and reading endless books.Set in 1931 and titled The Chief Constable Regrets, his story involved the systematic murder of surviving members of a platoon from the Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry who had fought together in WWI. I can remember long telephone conversations with him as he told me about some fact he'd uncovered and how he planned to incorporate it into the book. I can also remember his frustration over never seeming to find the time to write it. He was an exceptional detective and much in demand, often spending weeks away from home on some investigation or other. My family lived in West Cornwall but the Devon and Cornwall Constabulary covers a huge area and an investigation in Plymouth or Exeter would take him 90-150 miles away from his typewriter. No laptops back then, of course. He looked forward to his imminent retirement when he'd have the time to devote to his novel.
But then on 13th May 1991, cruelly just a few months after he'd retired, Dad suffered a massive and fatal heart attack.

 It took a little while to sort out his affairs and part of that involved me going through a box of floppy discs that he'd used to store work done on his old Amstrad word processor. I converted his documents to a format which means that I still have them safely backed up and preserved for posterity to this day. But there was no trace of a novel among the discs or on his processor’s 256k onboard memory. What he’d written, if indeed he'd written anything, seemed to have been tragically lost.

But then, while sorting through some box files of material that Dad had accumulated while researching our family tree, my brother Si found some pages of notes relating to the novel and 24 printed pages of text comprising the first four chapters of the book. His notes seem to suggest that maybe this is how far he got. We'll never be entirely sure but I'd like to think that everything he wrote has been saved.


In the quarter century since he died people have suggested to me that I finish The Chief Constable Regrets. I would genuinely love to. But, sadly, I have no idea how. There few clues as to how he intended the plot to run and, while he left notes regarding the characters, I cannot be sure who commits the murders (although I have a shrewd idea).

However, Dad's novel - or some of it at least - will, finally, soon see the light of day.

A Murder To Die For takes place at a festival celebrating the life and works of crime fiction writer Agnes Crabbe and I'm using extracts from Dad's book in the novel to represent her prose. So whenever one of my characters reads any of her work, what they'll actually be reading is some of The Chief Constable Regrets

It means that some of Dad's unfinished first novel will get to be published.

 I think that he'd have liked that.




Sunday, 11 September 2016

Welcome back my friends ...

Welcome back my friends ...

An obscure 1970s prog rock lyric reference. What better way could there be to welcome an old fart like me back to the world of blogging after a nine month hiatus?

It's been a busy nine months that's for sure. Since I shut up shop on the old blog (here) in January I've helped write and record Sandi Toksvig's first season of QI (she's amazingly good as the new host), been involved in launching two books I've written or co-written - Saving Bletchley Park and Why Did The Policeman Cross The Road? (see links at right of page) - and launched a crowdfunding campaign for my first novel (here). I've given talks all over the UK and at HybridConf in Berlin and I've appeared in literary tents at Latitude, and the Wood, Fireside and Wilderness Festivals. I've also appeared on the Ex Libris panel show (listen here) and on the QI podcast No Such Thing As A Fish (listen here) and the Level Up Human live show (listen here). Oh, and I've recorded a pilot for a possible new TV series (as the host) and given two TEDx talks in Wales and London.

As I say, it's been a busy nine months.
 






But now it's time, I reckon, to bring back the blog.

Expect interesting stuff about writing and art. Expect news of events I'm involved with and some behind the scenes material.

Basically, more of the same kind of bloggage as I've produced for the past 10 years.

It's nice to be back.