Your irregular Dabbler update

Dabbler update. Here is a list of some outstandingly odd book titles. And here I consider the coal mining connections of a Mr Jenkins.

Bosch, Brown and blockbusters

Over at The Dabbler I speculate on the significance of a religious painting, why contemporary poetry is mostly unconcerned with sporting heroism, and why people like attending Big Events so much at the moment. It's how we roll.

Chateau days

I used to be a professional sportsman who lived in a French chateau. Learn more at The Dabbler.

Seems a long time ago now...

Over at The Dabbler this is how I marked Christmas and this is how I marked the end of the year. Happy New Year!

Childhood, via Edwin Muir

What childhood can feel like, via Edwin Muir.

The word "newspaper" doesn't do them justice...

...as I relate over at The Dabbler.

Going on about capitalism

Here I wondered why we go on about capitalism so much and then here I managed to do it again whilst writing a review of some short stories.

By the way, that Masterchef Professional is brilliant again isn't it? I praised it last time.

Pomes

Here.

Simply odd

The Telegraph's obit of Sir Jimmy Savile concludes:

...he was simply an odd chap.

Whilst I'm here, I should mention I've looked at a couple of other odd things over at The D: the culture of French rugby and the notion of capitalism.

Fab'lous aren't they?

One of the ways Welsh rugby is so lovely.

Mingling in Motown

I recall some golden musical years from the past century.

The Poster King

I review The Poster King at the rather wonderful Estorick Collection.

Horses not Flies

I recall a post-apocalyptic poem featuring horses over at The Dabbler. Thanks go to Mrs Grubb: vegetarian, CND-supporting, pacifist, socialist English teacher from my comprehensive schooldays. On the other hand, she refused to teach Lord of the Flies owing to its bleak view of human nature.

It never rests

I've been away but nevertheless a couple of my posts went up on The Dabbler, the hardest working blog in showbiz.

A bit nuts

I offer up what some might consider an eccentric review of Mark Mason's enjoyable Walk the Lines. Poor guy writes about his harmlessly quirky walks around London and ends up being accused of exemplifying the emptiness of our Godless world.

Verities

Verities, schmerities. Over at The D.

Did I mention...?

Over at yon Dabbler, I write about one of my favourite poems, Thomas Hardy's Midnight on the Great Western (and only incidentally about MY NEW NOVEL).

My novel is now available

I've written a novel, as I related here and here. I've been looking for an agent but haven't had any joy so thought I'd publish it as an ebook for the Kindle.

It's called Region of Sin and here's the blurb:

A novel of excitement and intrigue where corruption, international finance, espionage and terrorism intertwine to fatal effect, and where only love can offer redemption.

It's a thriller! But with some arty touches. Buy it here*.

For those of you who know me in real life I shall be conducting a short oral examination of its contents next time we meet. No excuses. For everyone else, I can do no more than plead. Buy it!



* Profits from this edition, such as they are, will go to the Royal British Legion.

This party on that party

I forgot to link to a review I wrote of Rupert Thomson's This Party's Got To Stop. I enjoyed it and thought it was very clever and effective. I don't get that reaction as often as I'd like so take it as a very strong recommendation.

Evan Davis's BBC

The kingdom of Evan is at hand.