I'm fortunate in that I work at home, so, as the plague worsens and lockdown continues, I don't have to go out, aside from necessary trips to get groceries. While the rules allow us to go outside for exercise, I've stopped doing that, as too many people are acting as though they're desperate to catch, or spread, the plague — not wearing masks, not social distancing, hanging out in groups. Two workers at my local supermarket have died. The walkway by the River Kelvin has been nicknamed The Disease Corridor.
In the summer of 1989, I finished writing my second novel, The Champion's New Clothes. It was a few months before my first, Of Darkness and Light, was published by Bloomsbury. They bought the second one right away, but took almost two years to publish it. Scotland on Sunday called it “entertaining, raw and punkish,” with “scenes of rampant evil.” It soon went out of print, and remained so for more than a decade.
“A principal rule for writers, and especially those who want to describe their own sensations, is not to believe that their doing so indicates they possess a special disposition of nature in this respect. Others can perhaps do it just as well as you can. Only they do not make a business of it, because it seems to them silly to publicise such things.”
My publisher, Dockyard Press, has put out three new books: The Night before Christmas of the Living Dead, a holiday-themed zombie thriller by M.V. Moorhead; The Heavyweight Champion of Nothing, a Chicago novel of working-class disillusionment—and burglary—by Zak Mucha; and Shot, by Gerard Brennan, the first in a new Northern Irish crime series featuring Shannon McNulty, a former London cop gone home to contend with the murder of her gangster uncle and the disappearance of a politician’s daughter. All titles are available as e-books through our in-house store, and in paperback at all discerning bookshops.