The Bedside Crow

Justine wrote this. I have stolen it from her. It is my gift to you on this day of days. You should follow her. @swimble

It’s the final term and thoughts turn inevitably to a proper holiday. Possibly this idle desire also has much to do with the wettest drought on record. Not that I’m a sunbather. Any parent with a tan that isn’t out of a bottle (or, indeed, a flung jar of muddied poster paint) is, frankly, not doing its job. I recall my discreet pleasure at the comeuppance of a rather deliciously distracting mum in the slightest of bikini bottoms (no top), who lay down on the beach to bronze while I struggled to contain a small Trasha, who was busily handing out adoption papers to strangers and telling them of her life of cruelty at home, and her little brother. Who was locked-down in a pop-up tent anchored with stones. Thereby lending weight to his sister’s tale of woe. The lady leisurely applied lotion. Lay down again. And then, like an angel, appeared the most gorgeous of naked baby daughters (hers, not mine) lightly caked in sand who, on seeing her mother dozing, climbed on to her flat (of course) tummy to lay a perfect twirl of poo in her belly button. 

First paragraph of her next book review. Not published yet.

You should buy her book (two posts down).

The Little Book of Nits. First review.

Justine's book, The Little Book of Nits gets its first (early) review in the London Evening Standard

We will be launching it on publication day 24th May at 7.00pm. Book a (free) ticket here.

Also joining us to celebrate will be our good friend Richard Guard author of Lost London - An A-Z of forgotten landmarks and lost traditions.

Richard also happens to be the lead singer of the brilliant Dulwich Ukulele Club, some of whom, if perhaps not all eleven, will be in attendance for a glass of cider a sing song and a general rock of the house.

 

 

 

Pre-order a signed copy of The Little Book of Nits

Buy a signed copy of Lost London.

Jennifer Egan wins the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction, for A Visit From the Goon Squad

Pictured, my nice Alfred Knopf US first edition (with the deckle edge). You could have had one too had you shopped with us, and quite a few people did since we had it in stock from publication in July last year - the UK edition, a trade paperback, came out in January this year. We also stock her backlist.

So, what do you want smartarse? I hear you cry, A medal?

Yes, is the answer, I think I do.

If you would like to be kept up to date with the American stuff that we import every week, then feel free to drop us a line and I will put you on our special mailing list.

The Hunger Trace: a conversation with Edward Hogan

Edward Hogan was born in Derby in 1980. He is the author of two novels, the Desmond Elliot award winning Blackmoor and most recently, The Hunger Trace, the modern day Hardy-esque story of a recently widowed woman Maggie who inherits a wildlife park in the county and her relationship with her neighbour Louisa, a falconer. It is earthy, saucy and constantly surprising. We liked it so much that we made it our book of the month for March.

JM: As somebody who grew up fairly near to where both of your books are set (and incidentally had a summer job in a lion reserve) I can't think of much contemporary writing, or art even - Shane Meadows aside - that deals with derbyshire. Was it a conscious decision to write about the area, as in, almost a militant thought, or more simply the fact that this was where you grew up?

EH:I didn't really have a choice! Derbyshire was so central to where all my creative stuff came from. I just love it.  I like to write about the towns and villages and A-roads, but in the background there's always the woods and the peaks.  All that harshness and spookiness.  I like how you're only ever three miles from being lost in nature, and three miles from the nearest Greggs.

    It's funny you mention Shane Meadows.  I remember watching Dead Man's Shoes with my brother, and that first scene when Paddy Considine's character says, 'Don't mess around with that fire, Anthony.'  Me and my brother looked at each other, and said, 'He's talking like he's from around here!'  It was astonishing to hear it on the TV.  Brilliant, in fact.  I think the film was shot down the road from us, in Matlock and Riber.  I respect Shane Meadow's vision of Derbyshire in that film.  It's got a bit of a Western vibe about it.

      With The Hunger Trace, I wanted to write about the outdoors, about the beasts lurking in the grass!

JM: It was a pleasure to read a novel where grown men call each other 'youth' and say 'me duck.' and ask for, ' a pint of bitter, no nozzle.' That said, the male characters do feel as though they have lost their place in the world. Without giving anything away, how do you think the men in Blackmoor, redundant miners for the most part, would react to the way Adam earns his living in The Hunger Trace, both on the golf course and, erm, elsewhere?

EH: Ha!  Good question.

I wrote a huge backstory section for Adam, which didn't make the final cut, but he really interested me in terms of that question of masculinity.  He grew up in a post-industrial town where there seemed to be two routes for a normal lad.  He could either slide quite comfortably and happily along with his mates (the sons of his dad's mates), playing football, boozing, getting married and taking a job - if he was lucky - in construction, or perhaps in a factory; or he could slip into a serious drug habit.  At 15 years-old, Adam gets his girlfriend pregnant and it changes his course completely.  By the time we meet him in The Hunger Trace, he believes that the only thing for which he has a talent is sex.

   To answer your question, I think that most of the older generation of Blackmoor men would be fairly disgusted, and - more importantly - hugely threatened by his visits to the homes of lonely women.  That's understandable.  In a way, he embodies all the problems faced by the men of Blackmoor: how can a man earn his money, when the traditional jobs have gone?  What role does a man play in his family when, all of sudden, there are more work opportunities for his wife?  How can he be potent, as his father and grandfather would have defined that word? 

   As for his job on the golf course, well, I had a brief job strimming gardens, and there's satisfaction to be gained from that sort of outdoor work.  I think the Old Blackmoorians would have jumped at it, and made it their own, despite the droves of flash executives in the clubhouse.

JM:Whereas the women on the other hand are, in their own ways, fairly sorted....

EH:Yes, I really see the central story of The Hunger Trace as the relationship between the two women, Maggie and Louisa...

Louisa's relationship with her hawks really intrigued me. The more I researched falconry, the more I understood that falcons don't need their keepers. There's not the same affection as you get with a dog. In fact, falconers have to keep their hawks hungry, in order to keep them in line. A hawk which is 'fed-up' (that's where the term comes from) will not only be disobedient, it may even up sticks and leave.

In terms of Louisa's relationships with humans, I thought there were some nice echoes there. She's spent 30 odd years obsessed with a man who's fairly indifferent to her, and while that brings sadness, it's also a strangely comfortable position. When someone loves you back, that brings responsibilities.

JM:I'm guessing that Maggie has plenty of backstory too, there is plenty of mystery in her past - early 30s, Greenwich and not much hint of what she's left behind...

EH:Yes, I do tend to write the life stories of my characters during the early drafts. I certainly did that with Mags, writing reams and reams about how her mother and father met, but we cut it. I realised, with the help of my agent and editor, that it would have been indulgent to leave it in. The major turning points in Maggie's adult life happen after she meets David, so I didn't want to go back that much further. You've got to think about the reader, the pace of the story. If backstory stays in, there'd better be a good reason. With Louisa, we obviously needed to know what happened in her childhood.

JM:I'm fascinated by reading that you wrote 9 drafts before submitting the book. How long did that take? Presumably the book changed a great deal over the course of its writing?

EH:Maybe nine drafts was an exaggeration.  The Hunger Trace actually started life as a thriller.  It wasn't until I invented Louisa, at that point a supporting character, that I really began to write the proper novel.  The process took longer than it should have because I was finishing a teaching qualification.

   Blackmoor on the other hand, took absolutely ages.  It was totally trial and error.  I put everything I'd ever thought of into the first draft (apart from Beth, the central character).  It was about 600 pages long!  You learn so much from writing a first novel.  I certainly had a much better idea of how to work when I came to write The Hunger Trace.

   

JM:It seems to me that there is a new generation of UK based writers, I'm thinking of Ross Raisin, Joe Dunthorne, Rachel Trezise - I'm sure there are more who write about the regions and the outdoors who might loosely form a movement like say the Dirty Realists in the US in the early 80s. The New Regionalists or something. Marketing can have that one for free.

EH:The New Regionalists! The idea of regional fiction is quite interesting.  Of course, when you grow up in Derbyshire you don't think of your childhood as regional (maybe that's the same if you're from Swansea or Keighley or the Rhondda Valley). That's your whole world. I remember someone telling me that I shouldn't have the word Derbyshire on the front of the first book, as it would reduce the appeal. That made me a bit cross. Most of the fiction that I like has a very specific sense of place. I can't remember which novelist said that even the Trojan Wars were parochial. I accept, however, that Marketing might be quite pleased by the idea of me being on the same table as Ross, Joe and Rachel! And so would I - they're excellent.

JM:Finally, you recently signed a two book deal with Walker for two YA novels - both of your books so far have featured bewildered adolescents, will we be in similar territory again?

EH:I had a brilliant time writing Daylight Saving.  

It's about a lad who goes to a sports holiday complex in a forest with his dad and sees this girl in the lake. She's covered in cuts and bruises and her watch ticks backwards... Yes, the adolescents are bewildered, but you could argue that the adults are struggling somewhat, too.

 

The Hunger Trace is published by Simon and Schuster.