I was eager to read The Istanbul Puzzle, after following Laurence O’Bryan’s path to publication for some time now. If you haven’t heard of authonomy.com, it’s Harper Collins’ rather clever idea to find new writers. The concept is simple – writers upload their work, which is assessed and rated by other users. The pieces that score best, win an editorial review, and, perhaps more importantly, come to the attention of Harper Collins. This was the path that O’Bryan took, which led to his debut novel hitting the shelves earlier this month. Out of the many books that have been uploaded, only a few have actually been published, The Istanbul Puzzle being one.

I read the book on my Kindle on my daily one-hour each way train commute. And is the journey important to this review? I think it is, and that’s because it demonstrates a point. On Friday, a colleague spotted me, standing in the rain, waiting for my bus link to the station. Ordinarily I would be pleased to get an unexpected lift, especially as I didn’t have a coat. In this case my first thought was that I wouldn’t be able to carry on reading – that keen was I to carry on.

The story plays out in Istanbul, a city O’Bryan clearly knows a lot about. It starts with widower, Sean Ryan (an American living in England) being given the news that a friend and colleague has been murdered. Ryan is called to Istanbul to identify the body, and cast light on what might have happened. He soon teams up with British Embassy staff member Isabel Sharp, in what proves to be a race to prevent the release of a deadly virus in London with the intention of wiping out a huge chunk of the population and creating a new Islamic state.

The Istanbul Puzzle is a great debut, with plenty of thrills, action, and enough history to give you the opportunity to actually learn something. I get the impression this isn’t the last we will have heard of Sean Ryan and Isabel Sharp.

And in case you forget, Laurence O’Bryan is the name of Harper Collins latest thriller writer. Remember it. He’s going to be around for a long time.

I’m happy to report that I completed my entry to the Crime Writers’ Association Debut Dagger. And more importantly, submitted it.

I was really pleased with the 2,700 word first chapter (which I polished until I could see it sparkle), the title (which changed a couple of times before I settled on ‘the one’), but I’m not so sure about the synopsis. It was the first one I’ve ever written.

My first novel, Depot 573, was written without knowing where the story was going. I enjoyed writing my characters into corners, and then trying to work out how they were going to extricate themselves. For my first foray into crime fiction, I needed to work out everything in advance in order to write the required synopsis. On reflection, I think it would be difficult to write crime fiction any other way, and I’m really glad I was forced to do it. Having the plot laid out for me, including all the twists and turns, should make completing the novel easy. Well, easier. But I’m not convinced the synopsis was as good as it should be. Sure, it gets the plot across clearly and succinctly, but I’m not sure it was a good reflection of my writing style.

I guess only time will tell.

Anyway, I have just stumbled across Lee Hardcastle’s The Thing in 60 seconds, with Pingu.

Now my kids (thankfully) never got into Pingu, but I am a huge fan of John Carpenter’s The Thing, and Lee’s take on it is pure genius.

Warning – as Lee says, this claymation is NOT for children. Enjoy!

I’ve reprinted the following image from a four-year-old blog post. Four years to the day, to be precise.

Four years (to the day – did I mention that?) seems a good time to drag these back out into the light. These resolutions still seem relevant, although priorities have changed a little. I could probably drop the ‘read more’ bit. Since my working day now involves two hours on the train, I have read (or re-read) the following books in the last couple of months:

• The Nightmare Thief – Meg Gardiner
• The Fry Chronicles – Stephen Fry
• Duma Key – Stephen King
• Gerald’s Game – Stephen King
• Blockade Billy – Stephen King
• Tell No One – Harlan Coben
• Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? – Phillip K Dick
• The King of Lies – John Hart

So I’m getting the reading in (though you can never read too much).  I’m also getting out on the bike – that’s the beauty of (now) living by the coast, with a mountain range behind.

I’m also (still) cutting the junk (food). Well doing my best – and the financial savings will be in New Zealand Dollars, and not pounds sterling.

The real one, the resolution that I have struggled with for a while now is the top one. And it stays as the top one: Write more. Even my tardiness with this blog demonstrates I’ve been neglectful in that department. But here we are. First blog post of the year. And Twitter must be wondering what’s hit it (OK, maybe not. I just don’t see the point of tweeting every mundane detail).

There is also this: The Crime Writers’ Association – Debut Dagger. I’ve had an idea for a crime novel for a little while now, and even have the first page written. So this is going to kick-start my 2012. I need to get up to 3,000 words down (not too difficult), self-edit them to a publishable standard (difficult) and then come up with a 500-1,000 word synopsis, that will ‘sell’ the book (probably the most difficult part). And I have until the 21st January to do it.

That’s my challenge. I’ll keep you updated, and may even reproduce an excerpt here (once it’s good enough). Wish me luck…

I picked up a handful of books on Saturday, one of which was The Last Child, by John Hart. I was up early on Tuesday, and with 8 hours of travelling ahead of me (which, because of train delays, turned into 12), I read it in a day.

Hart’s thriller manages a difficult job of dealing with a sensitive subject (child abuse and abduction), whilst keeping the readers’ attention alive through a thirteen-year-old main protagonist – Johnny Merrimon. And he does so with great skill.

Johnny’s world has fallen apart since his twin sister’s abduction – his father has disappeared, his mother has fallen into a deep depression and he is untrusting of the police, who have failed to find Alyssa. It leaves him with only one avenue. Armed with a map, bike, and occasional help from his only friend, Jack, he stalks the town’s sex offenders and other miscreants. But he isn’t alone. Detective Clyde Hunt has never given up on his search for Alyssa, and his obsession is threatening both his relationship with his own son, and his job.

I had not come across John Hart previously, and was attracted by both the cover, and the printed badge proclaiming the book had won the CWA Ian Flemming Steel Dagger award in 2009. Bound to be a good read then?

I wasn’t disappointed. I don’t (ever) like to quote the Daily Mail, but I cannot agree more with their assessment printed on the back of the book: ‘Just once in a while a thriller comes along that makes you want to run out in the street and proclaim how good it is’. OK, I’m not running, but I am typing pretty quickly, and please consider this blog post a proclamation.

The Last Child is simply one of the best crime fiction novels I have read. Ever. I was tired when I finally got home late on Tuesday, but could never have been too tired to have not finished the book that day. It was that good.

The book also includes a character, Levi Freemantle, who reminded me a lot of John Coffey (Yes, boss, like the drink, only not spelled the same), one of Stephen King’s main characters in The Green Mile - even down to them both being portrayed as some sort of spiritual vessel. This was the only diversion from the book’s crime genre, but being a big Stephen King fan, one that didn’t affect my opinion at all. And whilst I’m thinking about it, the crow on the cover is also very ‘King-esque’.

Fantastic read. I am already a big John Hart fan.

Son: Excuse me.

Nice Travel Agent lady: Yes?

Son: My Mummy wants something on Sing-A-Whore.

Nice Travel Agent lady:  * Cough * Pardon?

Son: Do you have a brochure about Sing-A-Whore.

Nice Travel Agent lady:  Oh, do you mean Singapore?

Son: Yes. Singapore.

The Whispering Gallery is Mark Sanderson’s second book in a proposed trilogy featuring Fleet Street hack, John Steadman and his policeman best friend, Matt Turner. The setting is pre-war London, and Sanderson paints this picture with incredible skill. When I was a teenager, I read the classic Lensman (Sci-fi) series by E.E. ‘Doc’ Smith. These books were originally written and revised between the thirties and the fifties, and you can tell. Although Sci-fi, everything felt old-fashioned.  Sanderson creates the same feel for me. His scene setting and description of atmosphere of ’30s London is pitch-perfect – so much so it feels as if he had written the book then and kept it under lock and key until now.

This is the second John Steadman book, but works well as a standalone novel. I haven’t read Snow Hill, but wasn’t confused by the periodic references to it – although I’m guessing Steadman’s confusion over his own sexuality is perhaps explored more fully there.

The novel takes place during a summer heatwave in 1937 and starts with Steadman waiting to propose to his girlfriend, Stella, in St. Paul’s Cathedral. His plans are interrupted by a man jumping (or was he pushed?) from the Whispering Gallery, killing both himself and the priest he lands on. Steadman’s journalist’s nose smells foul play, and more importantly, a story. His investigation coincides with receiving a series of increasingly macabre packages, each accompanied by a veiled threat. But John Steadman isn’t someone who lets his own safety get in the way of a good story.

The book is fast paced, yet allows time for character development - although this is something I hope Sanderson explores a little more in his third book. And did I mention atmosphere? Because if I did it was some time ago and I need to remind you of it. Sanderson’s writing is about as close to scratch ’n’ sniff ’30s London as you’ll get. Unless someone produces a scratch ’n’ sniff book, of course.

Great read. Buy it.

Good CGI, however it appears that bee bearding contests do actually take place in China.

And I thought we Brits had unusual customs! Rather him than me.

Full story, courtesy of the Guardian: http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/gallery/2011/jul/18/bee-bearding-contest-china#/?picture=376962896&index=0

UK entrepenuer, Charles Duncombe, has highlighted that poor spelling is a serious problem for the online economy and is costing online businesses millions.  He says it is possible to identify the specific impact on sales:

[Duncombe] measured the revenue per visitor to the tightsplease.co.uk website and found that the revenue was twice as high after an error was corrected.

“If you project this across the whole of internet retail then millions of pounds worth of business is probably being lost each week due to simple spelling mistakes,” says Mr Duncombe, director of the Just Say Please group.

I think the problem is exacerbated by the rush we all seem to be in nowadays. I think I’m pretty good at spelling (and certainly know when I don’t know how to spell something), but how many times have you sent something out with a spelling mistake because you haven’t had enough time to proof-read it properly? I know I have.  Not often, but once is once too many when it’s a report destined for a Board meeting.

The typo in the title of this post was deliberate, by the way. Don’t think the Associated Press headline mistake was, though. Made all the better for it being a story about a spelling bee.

Original story (once again) courtesy of the BBC: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/education-14130854

An Austrian man has won the right to be shown on his driving-licence photo wearing a pasta strainer as “religious headgear”.

Niko Alm first applied for the licence three years ago after reading that headgear was allowed in official pictures only for religious reasons.

Although a self-confessed atheist, Niko belongs to the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster and said the sieve was a requirement of his religion, pastafarianism.

I’m saying no more, though. Religious debates can often have unforeseen consequences. I mean, just because I Cannelloni understand it, it doesn’t mean he’s con-Fusilli-ed (sorry).

Full story courtesy of the good old BBC: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-14135523

Son: Dad?

Me: Yes?

Son: Do we have any felt tip pens at home?

Me: Sure. We’ve got that huge box of them in the conservatory on the shelves. Do you want to do some colouring?

Son: I can’t tell you why I need them.

Me: Oh, OK.

Son: Is it Father’s Day on Sunday?

Me: Yes. Yes it is. [smiles]

Happy Fathers’ Day to all you dads out there.

Last week I posted about how unprepared Leicester City Council was for zombie invasions.

Looks like the zombies found out: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-leicestershire-13823427

** UPDATE **

I have overlooked the real concern here – zombies are using Facebook to coordinate their activities!

Son: Dad?

Me: Yes?

Son: Dad, did you do anything to Mummy on your wedding day?

Me: Erm, what do you mean? Did you have anything specific in mind?

Son: Well, on Phineas and Ferb, the man pushed a cake into the bride’s face!

Me: No, I didn’t push cake into Mummy’s face.

Son: Oh, OK.

A worried member of the public has forced Leicester City Council to admit it is unprepared for a zombie invasion.

The authority received a Freedom of Information request which said provisions to deal with an attack, often seen in horror films, were poor. The “concerned citizen” said the possibility of such an event was one that councils should be aware of.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, if you’re concerned about having your flesh rent from your bones, you need to invest in your own good quality shovel. I favour aluminium – you’d be surprised how heavy steel shovels can get from constant swinging at zombie’s heads.

More on the BBC website.

** UPDATE **

It looks like the Midlands is lagging behind the South-West of the country. Unlike Leicester, it appears that Bristol City Council has fully developed zombie plans: http://www.bristol247.com/2011/06/15/bristol-council-reveals-zombie-attack-action-plans/

‘Intelligence’ gained from a source that has been kept secret on national security grounds suggests that Whitchurch Park, Shirehampton, and Totterdown have an “enhanced zombie prevalence”, according to the document. Stokes Croft, meanwhile, has special undercover investigations going on.

The document goes on to say that special codewords have been issued to council staff to look out for on TV and radio in case of zombie attack. The codewords have been created to avoid general panic and alert staff to go to their designated emergency positions.

Elsewhere, the plan includes:

• Advice on best practice for killing zombies;
• Reference to an area of the staff intranet where appropriate equipment can be found;
• Annual training schedules for staff;

There is, finally, a note warning that “due to urgent operational considerations, it is acceptable to suspend some elements of normal best practice in customer service standards when dealing with a zombie outbreak”.

I’m hoping my aluminium shovel advice is ratified in Bristol’s best practice guidance.

… was the title of a six-word story competition which ran during May on the Literature Bitch’s website.

I’d forgotten I’d entered, to be honest, so was happy to be selected as a runner-up. Thanks, LB.

Oh, and here are my six words of bloody revenge:

Her, sleeping around? Sleeping forever, now.

I’ve heard of a number of superstitious rituals to either bring luck, or avoid bad luck, but I would have thought burying yourself alive would be more likely to bring bad luck than good. Seems I was right and this unfortunate Russian citizen was fatally mistaken: Russian who buried himself alive died by mistake.

It’s even better if you like Bruno Mars.

Remember I recently reviewed Simon Toyne’s excellent debut novel, Sanctus? I drew favourable comparisons with Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code, including the use of assassin monks. I had only recently been thinking about this book, so imagine my surprise when a monk came into the canteen yesterday lunchtime, ordered pie and beans (I know, no chips!) and sat at an adjacent table.

Now monks may be commonplace where you live, but I can’t remember the last time I saw one. In fact, other than Friar Tuck on Robin Hood, I can’t remember ever seeing one. And is a Friar a monk anyway?

I casually snapped a photo on my phone (must get a better phone that takes better photos) and am posting it here for all to see. I have disguised the monk’s face. If he is an assassin I don’t want him trying to track me down for compromising his mission.

On the other hand, if he isn’t supposed to eat pie and beans on a Friday, I don’t want him to get into trouble for that, either.

There’s a general description and some landmark books for each one.