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AEOS Magazine out now
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AEOS Magazine Issue 2 is out now. With outstanding writing and art from an incredible array of creative talent, including: Barry Graham, Ewan Morrison, Christie Williamson, Zak Mucha, U.V. Ray and Gil De Ray. Visit AEOS Magazine at www.aeosmagazine.com to find out more and visit their online store to buy a copy.
The Last Tiger - sold out
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The 10th anniversary edition of The Last Tiger is here, see left, at least the author's copies are, or were. Had a very nice chat with Ayr Writers Group last night and the box is now empty. Completely sold out. It never ceases to amaze me that a book the publishing industry had so much difficulty getting behind (except the late and sorely missed Cargo) is a roaring (see what I did there?) success whenever it's put in front of the public. Perhaps there's a lesson in there. Writers, trust yourself. Trust your story. Ignore publishers. "Nobody knows anything" is a well-used publishing adage for a very, very good reason.
The Last Tiger
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The Last Tiger was written in Australia, where I was working as a reporter on a local daily newspaper at the time. I wasn't looking to write an historical novel, and certainly my agent wasn't looking for one, because she hated it. In fact, she hated it so much that she actually banned me from showing it to my editor at Penguin Random House. The book became a peculiarity after my Gus Dury crime series was published. I kept talking about it on the road, because the story of the Tassie Tiger has always fascinated me. Eventually, when I was out of contract, and had left the agent in question, I realised I still had the Tiger manuscript gathering dust under my bed. The book found its home at the brilliant, but now sadly demised, Glasgow publisher, Cargo. I wonder if the Tiger's fate struck a chord with the Cargo staff at the time? Both are now long gone, Cargo seemed to go under just as The Last Tiger was coming runner-up in Not The Booker P...
Man in Green Turtleneck
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I've been trying to loosen off the style a fair bit recently, so quite pleased that I've managed to produce something I think's worth putting out there. My wife's convinced this is the late William McIlvanney, and I can see the similarities, but I don't work from source materials like photos -- it's all in my head -- so I guess we'll never know. It's a big yin (if not The Big Man) at 22 x 36 inches, not framed yet, but will look imposing when it is. All queries, as ever: Tonester1982 (at) Tutamail.com
Interview With The Brummie Bukowski
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U.V. Ray, or as he's known around these parts, The Brummie Bukowski, hasn't taken part in an interview for a decade. The rare and original writer has much to say, most of it about his new book, A Cigarette Burn in the Sun which, going on the reviews alone, looks to be his most popular work so far. It's a bleak piece, both terse and terrific, and recounts a period in time which deserves more attention. I identified a lot of truth in the book, recognised the fact and the fiction, but wanted to know what the author thought. So, here we are, a rare insight into the working life and practices of a truly talented practitioner of the writer's craft. TONY BLACK: I believe the book's based on a real-life incident, is that right? U. V. RAY: Fictionalised reality, yes. We used to go to this club in Brum called Snobs and they had this indie night called Loaded. Me and my drinking pal Paul came rolling outta there about two-thirty in the morning and I thin...
Throwback Thursday: Gyles and The One Show
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The story behind today's Throwback Thursday picture deserves an article in itself, but that'll have to keep for another day. I was asked by the BBC to help out with a slot for The One Show, which was being presented by Gyles Brandreth. It was a crime piece and involved an Edinburgh police officer in a series of unfortunate events. The producer sent along a DVD of the slot at the time and if it ever surfaces from the cupboard under the stairs, where the DVDs now reside, I'll post it.
Five-Star Fag Burn
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REVIEW: a cigarette burn in the sun by u.v. ray āØāØāØāØ I like the cut of u.v. rayās jib I like short books, novellas, novelettes I like The Legend of the Holy Drinker I like The Old Man and the Sea Writers who write what they know Like Joyceās Dubliners Welshās schemies Bukowskiās Tales of Ordinary Madness Because itās definitely everywhere Especially these days, like a cigarette burn in the sun by u.v. ray Set in Birmingham, 1986 Amidst alkies, junkies Those on the outside of the outside The last thin rim Where youād need wings to balance Like Angel T. Cooley Hero without a halo But a Pentax and a plan Thatās not the same as a plot If Joyce made Waugh spit fire ray might bring the brimstone Donāt look for an arc A turn or a twist Thereās no nods to the gods Or head girls and editors In London or the Guardian Instead thereās a black moment On every page A horror upon horror To publish and be damned Well done u.v. ray Youāre the Brummie Bukowski A star in the making But already burnt...
Throwback Thursday
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I believe this week's Throwback Thursday comes from the Ayrshire Post, at the launch of HIS FATHER'S SON, my dad-and-a-lad novel that's dedicated to my son. A follow-up is on the way, completed and awaiting an edit. Marti Driscol is a little bit older and a little bit wiser, but life might not be treating him any kinder in IVORY ELEPHANTS.
Remembering John Byrne, Ross-shire Journal
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'Get Me Some More, Just Like Him' I unearthed my Certificate of Scottish Education today, during what my beloved, late Grandmother would once have referred to as a "right good bogle" about the loft. It can be unnerving up there, balanced on rafters, juggling baby clothes and bags of tax returns, whilst past-lives flood back. I spied the document before I recognised it, in its latest incarnation it has become dog-eared, tattered, the colour of butter. But, there it was, present-day proof of my teenage self's attainment in higher education. Aside from the subjects of Art and English, believe me, these long sweated-over results were anything but assured. And for a while, even Higher English, to steal a line from the class's set text, was as dead to me as the undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveller returns. However, as fate would have it, beneath my teacher's Fair Isle tank-tops beat the raging heart of an iconoclast. If he couldn't breathe ...
We Remember, Willie
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William McIlvanney November 25, 1936 ā December 5, 2015 I see we've lost quite a few legends recently, so I'm betting there's quite a time to be had upstairs now. Today is the anniversary of the late William McIlvanney's death and I often wonder how he'd feel about who we've become since. I like to look at pictures of Willie in laughter, he laughed a lot, made me laugh a lot, and I'm ever grateful for the memories. He didn't waste much time wondering how he'd be remembered, though, as the extract below from one of my interviews with him shows, but remembered he is. TONY BLACK: How do you think you'll be remembered? WILLIAM MCILVANNEY: First of all, I'm not sure I will be remembered. I mean, I can't quite believe in posterity because I'll not be here ā it's a bit idle to say, will I be remembered? In a way a bit of me doesn't give a monkey's because I'm not going to be here and I think often of the writers I love, ...