Paul Bisson's Blog, page 2

Review of 'Against the Tide' by John F.Hanley

An excellent novel from Jersey-born John F.Hanley. The prose is crisp, the characters well-defined and the historical setting of pre-Occupation Jersey sketched with remarkable attention to detail. As a protagonist Jack Renouf is both believable and likeable, and I found myself genuinely gripped by his dealings with the novels' central characters - flighty siren Caroline, rival love interest Rachel and red Uncle Fred, whose horrific experience at the hands of fascists leads the novel into darker waters. The main thrust of the plot - smuggled Nazi diamonds - is well worked out, even if its introduction is left a little late in proceedings, though I did find myself struggling a little towards the end with the multitude of characters involved in the resolving melee. The action is welcome, however, as are the surprises awaiting, and it is to Hanley's credit that the main twist, when it comes, was both unexpected yet credible.

The book's title is a clever metaphor for the rebellious movements of its heroes as they set their shoulders against the inevitable surge of Hitler's war machine. It is also a nod to the sea, which - as any islander can attest - is everywhere. Renouf is a swimming champion, Rachel and Caroline competitive divers, and much of the novel is set in the cold and choppy waters of the Channel. Love is made, shots are fired and minds made up within the brine, and the immersion is a welcome one - I can't think of a novel that I've read in recent times that so completely captures the essence and influence of the sea on a fictional psyche. Dive in.

Review: 'Tess of Portelet Manor' by Roy McCarthy

A confession. As a Jersey-born writer I feel it my duty to pay attention to my fellow landlocked fiction-smiths, and it was out of this notion of camaraderie that I downloaded Tess of Portelet Manor. Ever since Hardy and Bronte at university I've given a fair birth to novels about headstrong female hut-dwellers (a hangover from my time in the SAS bare-knuckle boxing Corp) so I started Tess with a deep breath and in the hope that at the very least the author would do me the favour of making a half decent job of plot, prose and character.

Bingo. I had nothing to worry about. Roy McCarthy is a fine writer, and within several pages I found myself settling down into what proved to be a gripping and ultimately rewarding read.

We join Tess in the mid nineteen-thirties at the age of sixteen, living with her mother in a ramshackle property on Portelet common, full of grade issue teenage angst and painfully aware of her lower social standing. A likeable and (impressively) well rounded character, we are privy to her hopes, fears, failures and triumphs for the following decade as Tess finds her way in the world. It would be impossible not to ponder McCarthy's Tess without hearing an echo of her famous literary cousin, and the author's simple, elegant prose and frequent depictions of Tess's relationship with her natural world are similarly reminiscent of Hardy's approach to storytelling. I'm guessing McCarthy's a fan. I'm also guessing that the elder writer would have approved of McCarthy's portrayal of Tess' sexual appetites; this is a courageous, red-blooded heroine, not afraid to dish two fingers and a 'yer Mum' to a pack of ill-mannered Nazis or rip some lucky fellow's trousers off as the mood takes her.

As a historical novel Tess of Portelet Manor is a solid outing. McCarthy has obviously done his homework, with Pre, Mid and Post Occupation Jersey skilfully rendered through his descriptions of the island and the characters with whom Tess shares the novel. Islanders like myself will learn new things about familiar places, though the novel's pace and vibrant characterisation ensure that this isn't specifically a 'Jersey' novel (I couldn't resist a smile at Tess' career arc; from goods production and farming into property development and financial services - allegory intended?)

A final, though important note that speaks volumes about the author's approach to his craft; the e-book was beautifully formatted, and lacking any of the grammatical or presentational flaws that mar many of the self (and, unbelievably, professionally) published efforts I have encountered of late. A small point, but for me an important one. Roy McCarthy has worked hard to write a novel that both entertains, educates and engages, and in this he has most definitely succeeded. Give it a go.

AMAZON LINK TO PAGE:

http://tinyurl.com/p2gcq3s

Review: 'Bluesman' by Annie Reed

Thought I'd check out this short story. Twenty-seven year old Johnny is an aspiring musician, who is slightly unnerved by a poster bought for him by his mother featuring a group of musicians and an eerie demonic crowd that appear to meld and move with each repeat viewing. At first I was reminded of an old Stephen King story about a demonic dog attempting to leap free from the photograph that binds it (similar to Lovecraft's Hounds of Tindalos), and began to anticipate some serious nastiness ahead. As it transpires this story is fairly mild, revolving around the spirits of musicians who never made it seeking some kind of representation in this world.

The story is nicely written, and Reed clearly has considerable skill as a narrator. It's a nice conceit as well; adding a supernatural twist to that notion of rock and roll's 'twenty-seven club.' My only gripe was that it was a little bit tame - having set the tone for a nice dose of horror I felt the ending lacked a little punch. Oh yeah, and the 52 pages listed on the description...god knows what sized font the original used as I raced through this in under ten minutes.

As such I'm not sure if I'd recommend paying over 0.99 for this, though wouldn't hesitate to recommend the writer if her longer works are written to the same standard of prose.

Link to Amazon page here: http://tinyurl.com/og9jkxo

Clout Wanted

I’ve been battling the vague uneasiness that the original front cover of Coyote Jack – however much I like it – lacks sufficient oomph to punch through the pack when reduced to thumbnail size and listed with a bunch of other books. There’s too much detail, not enough conceptual clarity, a general softness of tone that I’m not sure does it any favours. Up close it’s lovely, and really captures the essence and theme of the novel, but does it hook the eye in that nano-second of attention given it by a passing browser? Not sure.As such I’ve opted for a complete change, designing a cover instead that features one central and instantly comprehensible image, the broken guitar (connotations: music, conflict, violence) coupled with a sparse colour scheme and the highlighting of the word blue/s (connotations: blues music). I’ve kept the ‘wild west’ font for Coyote Jack as I think it hints at Texas and his origin story, and found a nice blob-funky font for the Bluebirds.All of these overlaid on bright white presents a starker, more simplistic cover, though one which I am hoping will have a bit more screen-clout.

Damn Right I Got the Blues

I remember going to watch Buddy Guy live at the Manchester Nynex back in the nineties. Guy had always been one of my favourite blues musicians - so raw, so musically unpredictable, such a charismatic performer - and on that night my friend and I left sparkly-eyed and babbling. It was an amazing gig, and one that even BB King and band (incredible as they were at the same venue some years later) failed to knock from the top spot of my favourite blues concerts attended.

Buddy Guy's Chicago club Legends has been going for years now, and is pretty much regarded as one of the premier blues venues in America, if not the world. They've got a great affiliated website as well, and one on which I happened to spot some extracts of blues-based fiction. One email later and I got a warm response from the site's admin; yes they'd be keen to publish an extract from Coyote Jack and the Bluebirds if I could send one along.

I duly sent them three to choose from, though as luck would have it they've decided to publish all three over a period of months, with the first going on line yesterday, about which I am as happy as I am grateful. Damn Right.

http://bg.buddyguy.com/private-lessons/

Review: 'Future Queens of England' by Ryan Matthews

Like I said in a previous post; it's high time I started paying attention to some of my fellow indie Kindle authors. As such I found myself scrolling away just over a week ago, keenly trying to seek out something worthy of my time. Taking a mental machete to the wall of romantic fluff that seems to constitute a large majority of what's on offer at the Kindle book store I leapt straight in, tumbling down the face of that digital skyscraper and admiring all the pretty coloured windows flashing by.

I'm not sure what lead me to Future Queens, if I'm honest. The vibrant green of its cover, perhaps, or maybe just the rather cool title; either way I found myself face down on this particular ledge and the price being right - it was a done deal.

Having ignored the blurb it was with a mild jolt of alarm that I realised several pages in that the Future Queens in the title are a class of homosexuals completing a one year course in the gay arts at the specialist college that our chief protagonist, hirsute lager-swilling alpha-lad Tony, is sent as punishment for an incident of aggravated assault. This could get very silly very quickly, I thought, which would be a shame; I'd been initially impressed with the poise, clarity and pace of Matthew's prose.

I was right...and wrong. It does get silly, but what an enjoyable silliness it is. No sooner has Tony begrudgingly checked himself in to the school for Future Queens when he is introduced to the band of gay men who will be his room-mates for the next year, a motley crew including the pun-obsessed Bruce, the icy uber-gay Uwe, and our secondary protagonist, the insecure Hugh, whose own story arc runs parallel to that of Tony's.

The real laughs for me came in the first half of the novel, as Tony struggles to maintain what little dignity he can muster; some of the slapstick scenes in which he (literally) falls victim to his own needless paranoia are particularly funny, Matthews' dead-pan delivery serving up some genuinely laugh out loud moments.

I must admit that I began to struggle around halfway; the strange phantom drawings that keep appearing around the college add a mystery element to the plot, though other than this there isn't a huge amount driving the story forward. The Future Queens' efforts on the hockey pitch, where we find them slugging it out against a Weightwatchers team and a particularly vicious crew of Lesbians, are fun, if a little repetitive. Tony's conversion from gay-hater to 'Bender Defender' is nicely done, and his romance with tutor Louise adds a further (if a little predictable) dimension to the novel, though at times I just felt that we needed something bigger and more dramatic to happen - or failing that for the book to be twenty percent shorter.

That saying, I would not hesitate to recommend this book to readers gay and straight alike. Of course there are some out there who will take offense at Matthews' use of pejorative language (I think pretty much every term of abuse one could find for homosexuals, male and female, is to be found within the pages of the novel) though at the glowing heart of this novel is an emphasis on friendship, empathy and understanding, a genuine warmth that allows the reader to put aside all thoughts of political correctness and just enjoy the experience for what it is - funny fiction, eloquently written, and well worth the time.

Click here for 'Future Queens' Amazon page

More Tea, Hilary?

Three months have sped since the first Kindle upload of my novel Coyote Jack and the Bluebirds, and it's been all go since then. For a few days nothing much happened - in my own small and selfish world, anyway - until one day I peered inside Outlook to find an email from Bono - yes THE Bono - saying how much he feckin' well loved my novel. Attached was a picture of him and David Bowie hugging in close over a Kindle whilst in the background Madonna (or someone looking very much like her) could be seen kicking off about the hijacking of her device.

Things moved pretty quickly after that. There were the television interviews, the magazine spreads and that bloody Booker nomination fiasco (the suggestion that they make room for a second winner this year was the cause of much controversy, though Hilary made it perfectly clear to me over tea and scones (my shout) that she wasn't all that bothered). The movie adaptation is on its way - Denzil's just left, as it happens - my family and I have settled into our new home in the Bahamas and I finally got that tattoo done on my back, you know, the one of the flaming Kindle Logo that I'd been promising myself for years.

So yeah, reader, there you go. Job done!

This is me signing out - it's been a ride. x

- - - - -

Lies. All of it. None of that happened (apart from the bit where I uploaded my novel). In fact nothing very much happened at all, save for several kind friends downloading, reading and (purportedly) enjoying the book. I've managed to cajole a few pleasant reviews (with only one being sweated out at gunpoint) and a two day promo via the Kindle Select Promo saw me rocketed into the stratospheric heights of the top 30 Free Kindle Downloads for Literary Humour, before the inevitable plummet back down into the inconsequential void of dark and broiling nothingness.

Which is cool. Rome, builders, days and all that. Those two promo days saw my novel downloaded a couple hundred times, and I'm sure that somewhere in amongst that lot lurks the odd global megastar whose next big project will centre around the all-important promotion of my writing career (once they've finished abolishing third world hunger, saving the rainforest, blah blah etc yawn). Failing that I can only hope that some of those downloads result in happy readers who go on to post positive reviews. (I had to smile when I read about the experiences of a fellow Kindlite at http://www.jcmells.com/authors-corner/ with regards asking friends to post a review. Whilst I am eternally grateful to the handful of mine that swiftly typed their thoughts on my novel to Amazon I still perform a daily review-dance around the wig-wam in my back garden in the hope that I can somehow telepathically motivate all those others to contribute twenty words in as many seconds.)

So yes, there we are. Book up, first free promo done, novel spread like a thin layer of literary marge across a Google-clinging gnat's Ryvita, leaving me with the dilemma facing all those other thousands of millions of trillabilly-Kindle-indie authors out there...namely, what now?

Well, we'll see. To be honest I'm actually just enjoying having a nose around the online Kindle self-publishing scene, and have already earmarked several selfies that I'm looking forward to downloading and reading. I've had some bad experiences with 'popular' published novels recently (The Slap in particular left me in need of counselling and The Hundred Year Old Man That Climbed Out of a Window Just to Piss Me Off succeeded) and it's time I started paying some real attention to the indie Kindlehood. I'm part of it, after all.

PB

Ormerland

I'm extremely grateful to Ross Weston at www.ormerland.com for featuring Coyote Jack and the Bluebirds on his excellent site. For anyone that hasn't had a good old digital rummage around Ormerland then please do; you'll find all sorts of wonderful artistic goodies from Jersey and our sister isles. We're quite a creative bunch over here, when we're not busy evading taxes, polishing yachts or milking cows.

The feature can be found here:
http://www.ormerland.com/home/coyote-jack-bluebirds-paul-bisson/

Coyote B Goode

Two weeks have settled since I uploaded Coyote Jack and the Bluebirds to KDP. Now there it is, looking nice and, well...there...on Amazon. I've yet to start marketing it (whatever form that will take), though have sent it out to a few friends to get some early input and hopefully one or two nice reviews before I pump up the jam and get this party started.

The mechanics of formatting and uploading to KDP were pretty straightforward, though with hindsight I could have saved myself a few squinty hours in front of the monitor screen if I'd known how to set up the book for Kindling beforehand. The Table of Contents handed me a small mug of warm shit at one point - for some reason every time I saved the file as a hyperlinked document all traces of my digital docu-webbing were erased the minute I reopened it. In the end I was forced to redo the sodding lot and export it still quivering, though I got there in the end.

The plus side is that some of my friends purchased a version with a broken TOC, and have therefore unwittingly set themselves up for life. That file will be worth millions in years to come. Millions.

Another colossal pain in the arse was the sheer number of typos hiding in the syntactical shadows like little twatty ninjas. You'd have thought that three solid edits by myself and two external proof-reads would have been enough to smoke the word-assassins out, yet still there they were, a bucket load of the little swine, leaping like fleas from the shaggy hide of my novel as the Spellcheck combed them free. Should I happen to find any survivors I will have no choice but to adapt the applicable grammatical or spelling variation into my everyday life in the vague attempt to nullify the typo by rendering it the norm.

Anyway, I'm pleased to have The Bluebirds up and out there, and looking forward to hearing what people think. Go go go...go Coyote, go go go...

Cover Story

Et voila. I'm really pleased with this, and think that the graphic designer did a great job of bringing the brief to life. I had the notion of presenting some kind of 'do-it-yourself-bluesman' kit, though had no real idea how this was going to translate in pixels. The final effect is, in my opinion, rather pleasing, and does a good job of representing the novel's central conceit. 
The faded brown graph paper was an afterthought - the initial cover used a bright blue background that stood out well when reduced to thumbnail size and slotted into the Kindle Store yet was fairly garish when viewed up close. Though somewhat toned down by comparison, this final version has a much more professional feel to it. 
The strapline 'They Woke Up This Morning' was an after-afterthought, intended to provide some sort of curiosity-arousing enticement to delve into the novel. As well as connoting the blues via reference to that old cliche it can also be said to apply to each of the central characters, who literally do 'wake up' to themselves throughout the course of the novel.
Of course the red guitar is meant to represent a phallus firing up into the fertile concavity of that hat, whilst the black of those boots is a direct reference to Thanatos, the Greek personification of death. Hidden within the green dot of the fag packet is the all-seeing eye of Freemasonry, and if you count all the squares on the page and divide them by the number of frets on the guitar multiplied by the dashes around the bottle you get 11, which happens to be the scrabble score for the word COYOTE. 
And you thought it was just a standard book cover. Tsk.