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...
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
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...