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Showing posts from August, 2007

who guards the guardian?

The Guardian 's Books Blog today published a brief essay of mine about free online publishing. Sweet. They've long been my favourite UK newspaper. And they're even paying me, to my surprise, which makes this an official byline.

Will That Be Bolivia, Dear Reader, or Myanmar?

Guess what? It's time for a contest. And a vote. Yes, we're gettin' all celebratory and democratic around here. But first - you'll hopefully be pleased to learn that my fourth thriller, Night of Knives (aka "the Africa book") has been completed and copyedited, and is now officially in the Publishing Pipeline, set for official UK hardcover release on December 13th, just in time for Christmas. (If you're feeling very precocious indeed you can even advance-order a copy from Amazon.co.uk) Now that Book Four is in the can, the inevitable question is, of course: what and where next? Good question. And guess what? It's up to you to answer it. You see, starting today, and continuing through the end of September, I'm holding an online vote/contest to determine the country in which my next novel will be set, and by extension, where I'll be travelling (and travel-blogging) next. What's more, five lucky winners will receive signed copies of Invisible

magazining

I have an article in this month's CrimeSpree magazine. The article isn't online, but I'm sure the good folks of CrimeSpree are OK with me posting it here: Everything Is Extraordinary a brief history of the travel thriller It's a big scary world out there. Just imagine. Imagine yourself walking off a 747 and emerging from an airport into one of the developing world's megalopolises, Mumbai or Cairo or Sao Paulo, each bigger by far than New York. Imagine a seething maelstrom of chaos, noise, smoke and smog; potholed streets clogged by teeming crowds, the ragged masses of poor people living on rooftops, in cemeteries, in alleys in the shadow of five-star hotels. Imagine the nonstop assault on all of your senses, including your senses of decorum, personal space, disgust, and wonder; the mixed smells of diesel and open fires and rotting filth and street-corner spice markets; the splashes of bright colour – gleaming motorcycles, women's dresses, a pyramid of some myst