Showing posts with label Black Books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Black Books. Show all posts

Friday

Funky Friday’s Free-For-All Interweb Mash-Up: Let’s Just See If We Can Get Through This Without Saying ‘Baloohaha’, Shall We?

Don’t get us wrong, we’re delighted to have something fresh to read on Ray Chandler, but are we really still making ‘The Case for Raymond Chandler’? “The creator of Philip Marlowe has been called an imitator and a hack, but he deserves his lonely, disillusioned corner in the American literary canon,” says Allen Barra over at The Salon … As far as we’re concerned, that case is closed, gone and very probably lurking at the back of the lost-luggage rack in Brazzaville: Chandler was Hemingway with a sense of humour, end of story … The rather nifty Aussie crime blog After Dark My Sweet has the long-list for the 2007 CWAA Ned Kelly Awards, the results of which will be announced at The Age Melbourne Writers’ Festival in September … Update-Update-Update … Benjamin Black, aka Vincent Banville’s brother, didn’t scoop the €10,000 Irish Fiction Award at the 37th Listowel Writers’ Festival for Christine Falls, the gong and substantial cheque going instead to Roddy Doyle (right) for his novel Paula Spencer. And there was us thinking a crime novel actually had a chance of winning. We are such silly spoons … Sorry about the short notice, folks, but Belfast’s cracking crime bookstore No Alibis hosts an intriguing night’s writerly wibbling tonight, when Christopher Phillips holds forth on philosophy and love in the 'Socrates CafĂ©' in order to plug his new book, Socrates In Love. This coming after the (ooo-er, missus) monthly Candle and Mirror poetry evening … Finally, the news that Jason Starr and Ken Bruen are releasing Slide, another collaborative effort, through Hard Case Crime this coming October sent us scurrying to YouTube to track down Bernard and Manny’s attempt (below) to co-write a children’s book, The Elephant and The Monkey, about a liquorice-eating, trombone-playing, bottle bank-dwelling (erm) mouse. Sure, ’tis genius, to be sure. That’s all for this week, folks – enjoy the weekend and y’all come back now, y’hear?

This ‘Funky Friday’s Free-For-All’ Malarkey: It’s Just Another Name For An Interweb Mash-Up Baloohaha Thingy, Isn’t It?

Erm, yes. Moving swiftly on … the RTE Guide was less kind than it might have been to Val McDermid’s The Grave Tattoo, claiming that, “the basic premise is good … but there are too many loose ends and sub-plots that never quite get off the ground.” Still, the Raith Rovers fan will always have the Portico Prize AND the Theakston's Old Perculier Crime Novel of the Year award she won for The Grave Tattoo to sustain her … Unsurprisingly, Brian McGilloway’s Borderlands gets the 21-gun salute from Shotsmag: “Borderlands is a highly tense, taut debut novel with the same intensity one has come to expect from established authors.” Which is nice … Staying with Shotsmag, they’re getting to know Ken Bruen (left) quite well, apparently: “Bruen’s writing has a beguiling quality, written in very intimate first person … If you like your crime thrillers to challenge the way you think, then Bruen’s your man.” And staying with all things Bruen, Murderati has his ‘essay’ A Tale of Two Childhoods, which contains the deliciously downbeat kiss-off to the rich ‘n’ famous, “If you want to know what God thinks of money, look who he gave it to.” Ooooh, get him … John Connolly has had his prints taken over at Rap Sheet, where they’re asking a host of writers what crime novel they think has been most unjustly ignored over the years. Ross Macdonald’s The Chill, says John: “At the risk of being heretical, Macdonald was a much better novelist than Chandler, who was a flashier writer … read The Chill not only for its exquisite plotting and elegant, measured prose, but for the empathy, humanity and sheer generosity of spirit that infuses every page.” Couldn’t agree more … Finally, we got information, man, new shit has, uh, come to light … yep, it’s a double-whammy for Coen Brothers fans: not only did Ethan (right) and Joel's (righter) movie of Cormac McCarthy’s No Country For Old Men get les reviews raves at Cannes and finally blot out the blight that was The Ladykillers, but the Guardian brings news of a Coen Brothers-Working Title tie-in, Burn After Reading, Working Title being the company who worked on Fargo and The Big Lebowski (“Smokey, this is not 'Nam. This is bowling. There are rules.”). Joy untrammelled, eh? Finally-finally, here's aspiring author Bernard Black / Dylan Moran of Black Books (below), not really coming to terms with his latest rejection letter. Altogether now: "Piss-midget!" And that’s all for another week, folks: have a good weekend and y’all come back now, y’hear?