The Broken Afternoon

Being posh and having good manners is useful. So is being pushy and having few manners, in this second outing for Simon Mason’s two detectives, the two R Wilkinses. Ray has the manners and Ryan is, well, more down to earth. Both are lovely, in their own way. Both are also quite useless in other ways, which is why cooperation is good.

The Broken Afternoon is about that thing I believe I like the least in crime fiction; an abducted small child, possibly murdered. And it features not only the first missing child, but there are several more small children, making you fear the worst at all times. But Simon handles it well, clearly caring a bit about the readers’ peace of mind too.

If you read A Killing in November, the first 2x DI R Wilkins, you will know that it didn’t end so well for one of them. So alongside the fear of dead children you wonder whether the now former DI R Wilkins has a future with the police, or if it is down to the two Rs working less side by side this time. There are obviously advantages to not being so bound by the official rule book.

The boss is new, and not terribly friendly. Ray is stressed not only with work, but his wife is pregnant with twins. The other boss is not so nice, either, and Ryan struggles with the timing of his childcare. But still there is the need to find the bad guy, and we have plenty of suspects, each one as plausible as the next one.

I’m wanting book three now, but seeing as this one is just out, there might be a slight delay to services.

A new Kirk

There is a new J D Kirk coming your way. It’s about his 58th by my reckoning. (I obviously haven’t counted. It just feels like it.)

Publishes in May, so you have to exercise a little patience (but that’s all right because in the mean time there are all those other Kirk crime novels).

New detective, D I Heather Filson. I like women detectives. And she gets to be published as a conventional book, printed on actual paper. Thank you, Zertex. You’re a good publisher.

I haven’t read this one. But I’ll take a giant leap of faith and say I expect it to be great. And successful. After all, appearing on the cover of The Bookseller must bring it to the attention of quite a few booksellers.

Archipelago blues

‘I like his bookshelves’ said Daughter about Arne Dahl, as she saw him in his writing ‘cupboard’ online. ‘They are quite black’ she added. And I suppose that fits in with Nordic Noir. His books are better for being a bit black.

We watched Arne’s interview with Dr Noir, aka Jacky Collins, who fan-girled to a hitherto never seen extent. She almost bounced off the ceiling, were such a thing possible for someone seated on a chair in front of her computer. Never mind; I like an interviewer who really, really likes her ‘victim’.

So it was unfortunate that Barnet Libraries who hosted this Teams chat managed to silence Arne. Not forever, and not in that way, but we all agonised a bit while someone found his voice again.

It’s a rather Swedish voice. And he admitted to having had that typical Swedish childhood, with summers spent in the Stockholm archipelago, where I understand he’s not averse to killing people now. It is darker in winter.

We now also know where to hunt Arne down, as he was forced to tell us about his favourite café. It’s Vurma. Except, maybe he led us astray by making this up? There was also something important about Andalucía, but by that point I’d lost the plot.

Jacky very generously mentioned Arne’s [latest] translator, our in-house favourite, who was also listening in. Arne did a sort of ‘nice to see you, Ian’ wave. In as much as you can wave, or clap, on Teams.

There were questions from the worldwide audience, with a prize for the best one. They were all good. I was going to say except for the last one, because you can’t expect an author to know where one can find his books in the original, in another country. Arne assumed anywhere. Because you would, wouldn’t you? But thanks to Ian and Jacky it was made clear that due to Brexit you just can’t. And that is so wrong, and perhaps it was time to make that point publicly.

It was good to have ‘gone out’ for an evening, and I do like authorial cupboards.

And don’t you just love the ‘bullet’ holes in the wall?

Or the noir-ness of the competitor’s room?

(Both borrowed off Twitter.)

Sweet sixteen

A year ago Bookwitch ruminated on what sells and what she reads and why.

Today I’m – because we are the same, Bookwitch and I – thinking about the effect Bookwitching has had not just on me but on the young and innocent, like Daughter. We have both put sixteen behind us – but only just. Obviously. Today it’s Bookwitch’s turn to hum ‘She was only sixteen…’

As you may have gathered, Daughter has recently moved and has some vintage shelves to arrange with books. And, it seems, a polar bear. Also two bookmarks, one of which I was intrigued to find personally dedicated and signed by Michelle Magorian.

This is the effect I mean. Somehow a lot of young literature has happened to Offspring. The vintage shelves I mentioned seem to contain mostly books by people I ‘know’ and who Daughter has met through being dragged on bring-your-child-to-work days.

There are an inordinate number of Cathy Hopkins books, and that’s as it should be. Likewise Caroline Lawrence and Liz Kessler and Jacqueline Wilson. Although the latter has had to be pruned down to more manageable numbers of books.

I won’t list them all, but basically, the story of Bookwitch can be seen on these shelves. There won’t be so many new ones, as the e-reader has taken over. This is just as well, because however lovely the vintageness from the local auction-hunter, a flat has only so much space.

Apologies for the tile samples. There is a kitchen splashback to deal with. And I would like it to be known that that book by Vaseem Khan has been ‘borrowed’ from a kind parent.

The reign of Barley

I can see why Nick Barley, director of the Edinburgh International Book Festival, is planning on leaving in the autumn. From a practical point of view, it’s – probably – best to leave after the next big effort has been put to bed. In this case, that’s the festival in August 2023. It’s also the last one before the festival moves across the road.

So, new home, new blood, new lots of things. New start. It will be good, but not the same. This is partly because the EIBF are having to do what nearly all of us have to do; tighten the belt and save where possible.

I was reminded that Nick began directoring in my second EIBF year. The first year I was oblivious to who the boss might be anyway. But since then I have got used to seeing him around. I remember telling an author that I had spied him in the audience of her event. Her response was that she was glad she hadn’t known. But I’m sure Nick was there to enjoy himself, not to check whether the invited guests were up to scratch.

She was, though.

That will be fourteen years for director Barley, and it is going to be fourteen for Bookwitch. With press officer Frances Sutton retiring last year, that’s my EIBF covered. It will continue to be good, but I can also see the sense in leaving at the right time.

With Gordon Brown in 2012.

(Photo Helen Giles)