There was a time when Bloomsday took place on June 16 and was basically a pub crawl with fried kidneys on the side. No more! These days the organisers, bless their cotton socks, have extended Bloomsday so that it runs for the full week it actually takes to wade through Ulysses. Lateral thinking, chaps. The trio to your right are Anthony Cronin, John Ryan and Flann O’Brien, conniving over the schedule for ye firste evere Bloomsday pub crawle way back in 1954 (Paddy Kavanagh just out of picture, stealing pints). If you’re in Dublin tomorrow, beware you don’t get run down by a horde of stately, plump Buck Mulligans. Seriously, Grafton Street gets like Pamplona around tea-time … Still stately, no longer plump, Adrian McKinty of The Bloomsday Dead fame gets a nice big-up over at Page Turner, which runs a nifty Kirkus Review of Dead I Well May Be (“McKinty is a storyteller with the kind of style and panache that blur the line between genre and mainstream. Top-drawer.”) AND the opening chapter from the novel. Value for money, eh? Which reminds us: where the hell is the movie of DIWMB? Last we heard, Anonymous Content had picked it up, with Steve Gaghan on board to adapt and direct. Can anyone out there shed a little light? … The Dublin Writers’ Festival concludes this weekend, with Derek Landy of Skulduggery Pleasant fame yakking it up about his plans for world domination at The Ark, Temple Bar, at 3pm on Sunday. Book ahead, it’ll be a full house … Bad news for Charlie Parker fans: interviewed by The Sacramento Bee, John Connolly says, “I kind of have an idea of how it’s going to end. I don’t think I want to write 30 years of Charlie Parker.” Okay, but what’s the chances Parker returns as a supernatural PI some day? … Finally, Crime Always Pays regular George Zip sends us this two minute version of The Big Lebowski, courtesy of YouTube, in which the dialogue consists almost entirely of for unlawful carnal knowledge. To wit: “Dude, do you have to use so many cusswords?” “What the fuck are you talking about, man?” Or words to that effect. And that’s all for this week, folks – have a very fine weekend and y’all come here now, y’hear?
“Prose both scabrous and poetic.” – Publishers Weekly. “Proust meets Chandler over a pint of Guinness.” – Spectator. “A sheer pleasure.” – Tana French. “Among the most memorable books of the year, of any genre.” – Sunday Times. “A hardboiled delight.” – Guardian. “Imagine Donald Westlake and Richard Stark collaborating on a screwball noir.” – Kirkus Reviews. “A cross between Raymond Chandler and Flann O’Brien.” – John Banville. “The effortless cool of Elmore Leonard at his peak.” – Ray Banks. “A fine writer at the top of his game.” – Lee Child.