…he was supposedly regarded as slow, a bit backward at school, being a quiet, reserved lad… didn’t communicate very well… kinda introverted, not much of a mixer… the WURLD later came to know him as Albert Einstein… his mustachio-ed adorned upper lip would have served the Movember charity push proud… and his burgeoning riot of a hairstyle would have kept a team of trainee barbers going for weeks… his equation, E=MC2, is recognised almost globally (although few could tell yeez what it actually means)… his IQ would prob’ly rip through the upper ceiling on Mensa test gauges… if he lived in this modern 24/7 chat-show channel age, there’s no doubt the television moguls would be clamouring to have him on screen constantly… except… except… the man was possessed of more than just intelligence… his genius of thought was coupled with an enormous dry wit, and an awareness of how to ‘switch off’… once asked, ‘…what do you do, Albert, when you’re in boring company, and the tedium starts to annoy you?’,… he replied with a half-smile, ‘…ah, my dears, I merely retire to the back of my own mind, and there I am content…’ …and subconsciously, this dead-pan throwaway-line capacity seemed to have transferred to his widow… she was being shown round the space observation rotundas at Jodrell Bank Observatory, with its massive telescopes pointing out to the universe… she asked, ‘…what are they for?…’ the patronising reply was ‘…well, Ma’am, we use these to chart the distance between planets, and measure the relative speeds and movement of stars and such…’ …her priceless response to that was, ‘…oh, my husband used to do that with a pencil on the back of an old envelope in the kitchen…’ …the back of Albert’s mind must have been a fascinating place to visit… this ol’ Jurassic wonders if the same refuge may be afforded we poor quill-scrapers when the ennui of ordinary daily circumstance weighs a tad heavy… when all else fails, yeez can always retire to the back of yer own mind and there be content… see yeez later…
Tag Archives: blog scratching
..as an Author, when all else fails, yeez can retire to the back of yer own mind and there be content… #TBSU…
…as Billy Shakespeare once hinted, ‘…if yeez prick me, do I not bleed?…’ … well, yes, I might bleed, but being from Docklands Govan in Glasgow, I’m also likely to give yeez back a belt in the mouth, or at the very least, a Glasgow Kiss head-butt… but that’s beside the point… the real point is, that I’m motivated by the same things that drive most of yeez Lads and Lassies of Blog Land… not the least of these is being affirmed by yer peers… observe the isolated exceptions of historical creative hermits, like Greta (leave me alone) Garbo and …and… and… not many others, really… it’s a tough enuff trudge living the lonely existence of the long-distance quill-scraper… any morsel of encouragement is manna from the Literary Gods… I’m not talking the mega-trillion dollar contracts with the ephemeral Ghost-Like Publishing Giants… nor the effusive announcing to the WURLD that her offspring’s the next best thing since Chuck Dickens, that yer Mammy’s likely to be doing… it comes back to HONEST appraisal, critique, and sometimes even praise from yer fellow fablers… a few years back, when I embarked on this self-publishing odyssey, still authorially-wet-behind-the-scribbling-ears, any, and I mean any, review above two stars out of five was occasion for much rejoicing… I won’t say the Champagne was broken out, but p’raps an added Diet Coke or three were indulged in celebration… then came the disheartening exposition that certain indies had paid for, arranged for, manipulated for, false reviews on the Amazon Kindle pages and elsewhere… that helped us all not one iota… thankfully, the circle seems to be turning again… my third crime thriller, SAVAGE PAYBACK, sneaked onto Kindle a few weeks ago… armed with the experience of two previous title launches, I asked in advance for HONEST reviews from whoever felt inclined to indulge me… the response has been humbling, and a fabulously gratifying trip… I’m old enuff to appreciate when a reviewer has taken the time and trouble to get into my WURK, and every one of those Amazon and Goodreads reviews is gold dust to me… of course, like most of us, I’m not averse to the notion of flogging billions of copies of my masterpieces, but in all HONESTY, the receipt of each and every one of those reviews, regardless of how many or how few ‘stars’ are attributed is very, very special… LUV YEEZ…
Amazon Links for SAVAGE PAYBACK
Blog Scratchers Corner
Blogs To Follow
share around as usual and enjoy :)
…those of yeez who are familiar with my customary disposition will laff yer socks off to learn that the Arabic equivalent for ‘Seumas’ is ‘Sunshine’ …but, hold hard, Moriarty… not so fast with yer snooty, snarling, snorting, sneering… my excellent Barnetshire Diaries Blogging Buddy, Lord David Prosser, whose superb offerings are easily found thus: http://barsetshirediaries.wordpress.com has just awarded me, guess what?.. the SUNSHINE AWARD!… with the accolade, of course, comes responsibility and duty to flash the insignia, which is herewith :
…next weighty labour demands giving (yet another) ten unknown, or at least little-known facts about myself… so digging into my inner psyche produces this set :
1…. as a part-time semi-pro footballer in the Southern Amateur League in London ahem-years ago (I suppose I was a full-time pro trainee banker at the same time) my position of Centre-Forward Motormouth propelled me to the top of the league’s scoring charts three years in succession, accompanied, it must be said, by the equivalent three years as top of the red-card-early-bath-dismissals charts, being possessed of that familiar Scottish footballer inclination to retaliate first on the football field…
2… around the same era in the early seventies, I went straight from playing in a football match in North London to a Saturday night party, with my used kit in a carry sports-bag, and a pal in tow… in these days, I was partial to the intake of much strong waters, a practice I ceased more than thirty years ago… my next recollection of that event was waking up on the following Sunday afternoon in a hotel room in Ostend, Belgium with no idea how I got there… a live body rustled next to me, and a not unattractive female appeared from under the covers… the companion had scant recollection of how we had met at the party, gone home to get our respective passports and taken the ferry across the Channel… to my great shame, I can’t even recollect the name of the bonnie lassie, and I’m sure she won’t recall mine… I’ll blame the hangovers we each had…
3… I’m the WURLD‘s most incompetent user of laptop and computer gadgetry… I used to be second worst, pipped by a bloke in Timbuktu, but I heard he exploded along with his Mac the other day, so I’m now officially the WURLD‘s worst… and yet..and yet… somehow, the Internet Gods have let me accrue over 14,000 wonderful pals on the SOSYAL NETWURKIN circuit…
4… I’ve never even seen a Fried Mars Bar, so I expect any day now the Scottish Ambassador in Abu Dhabi will call, informing me that my Certification of Caledonian Nationality has been rescinded…
5… I’ve never owned a Drivers Licence… and regret that not one jot… convinced now that my primary purpose in life is to ride in the front of aircraft, the back of limousines, and to test-drive five-star hotels and bordellos, and not necessarily in that order…
6… I speak a passable form of English, better-than-schoolboy-level French, recollected Scottish Gaelic from a six-year sojourn in Tobermory, Mull in the Scottish Hebrides, enough Cantonese to order comfortably in a Hong Kong Chinese restaurant without getting two thousand sauteed prawns instead of half a dozen spring rolls, an amusing form of Philippines’ Tagalog (it must be amusing, else why do the locals there always laugh when I speak it?), and for the past decade have toiled with primitive Arabic sounds… but most acquaintances will attest my principal lingua franca is Rubb-ish…
7… Sir Winston S. Churchill has been my life-long hero, as the ultimate maverick in just about every aspect of his existence… my ambition was to meet the great man, but given his current circumstance, I’m prepared to wait a tad longer for that…
8… Billy Connolly remains the God of Humour to me… a kindred spirit whose primary driving force and strength is a healthy irreverence for any measure of pomposity… (in Govan we spell ‘pomposity’ as ‘sh*te’…)…
9… the purest singing voices I’ve ever heard… female, Judy Collins… ‘Send in the Clowns’ is unbelievably beautiful… male, the Irish tenor, John McCormack, who could sing the telephone directory and hold you transfixed… choral, the Stornaway Girls Gaelic Choir at any of the Gaelic Mods…all of these, music of the Gods…
10… my greatest wish is that everyone in the world would treat everyone else in the way that they themselves would wish to be treated…
…right, that’s half a score of obscure details, probably best left that way… now to nominate ten other unsuspecting souls, with the caveat, that like my pal, Lord David Prosser, if yer name’s not on here, it’s only because there are truly so many great bloggers out there and naming two hundred would be a wee bit O.T.T…
…the envelope, Mabel, thank you…
…and the nominees are :
– Jim McAllister– i-nation.me
– Paul Anthony– paulanthonys.blogspot.co.uk
– Philip Miles– footypoet.com
– Una Tiers– unatiers.com
– Tom Rizzo– Tom.Rizzo.com
– Jack Scott– perkingthepansies.com
– Paul Cude– thesoberhockeyplayer.co.uk
– Sandy Paterson– sandyschauffeur.blogspot.com
– Andy Holloman– andyholloman.com
– Amy Jarecki– amyjarecki.com
..now go have some fun with this
…the epithet of the lives of loads of writers, ‘when all else fails, read the instructions’… Bridget Whelan is a breath of fresh air in an arena cluttered with would-be ‘experts’ on the machinations of story-telling in all its forms… the title, Back To Creative Writing School, is a red herring, plain and simple… this no tutorial classroom primer… this is a delicious slalom through the collected experience of someone who knows the craft of writing inside-out, outside-in, top to bottom and back to the middle again… whether the wand of literary scribbling is newly upon you, or you’ve studied alongside Methuselah, this book will tickle your cerebral inventiveness as a purveyor of words… it’s a gem chest into which occasional dipping or prolonged visitation will be rewarded with faultless guidance (sometimes nudging) in the art of using words and language… and you do it all at your own pace… humour seeps constantly from the pages, even if you’re not using it specifically to learn, you’ll enjoy the exposition… excellent read …
What others have said about BACK TO CREATIVE WRITING SCHOOL
“This fantastic, down to earth, imaginative and brilliantly organised programme of exercises and explanations will give enormous inspiration to anyone who has ever wondered about whether they could write.”
Julia Crouch, author of Cuckoo, Every Vow You Break and Tarnished
“As a creative writing lecturer I regularly check out new materials in this field. This title is one of those that will remain on my Kindle indefinitely and will be repeatedly recommended to my writing students. The exercises are useful and pertinent.”
AMAZON LINK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Creative-Writing-School-Bridget-Whelan-ebook/dp/B00GJN576E/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1386273022&sr=8-1&keywords=Bridget+Whelan
…wha dare meddle wi’ me?… the Young Lochinvar’s come out of the (Middle) East… whheeeechhh!! …#TBSU…
…I’ve had a lot of requests recently, but despite that, I will show the article (updated for download figures) from last January by then Features Editor of the National Newspaper, Nick March, carrying that photograph of yours truly as the Literary Braveheart of Abu Dhabi… wheeeech!! (…would any of yeez buy a used crime thriller from that man?…) …slainte!….
Glaswegian in Abu Dhabi enjoys second career as bestselling author
Gallacher, 65, a Scotsman who has lived in Abu Dhabi since 2004, is enjoying a pretty decent start to the new year. He’s been voted “Blogger of the Year” , while downloads of his two novels have recently surged past the 70,000 mark. Yes, that’s 70,000 virtual copies (“best-selling stuff”, says the author, proudly) and none too shabby for an unknown writer.
He’s also recently sewn up distribution deals to sell his Jack Calder novels – the first entitled THE VIOLIN MAN’S LEGACY the second emblazoned with the words VENGEANCE WEARS BLACK on its cover – in branches of Borders, WH Smith, and Magrudy’s bookstores across the UAE. (The third in the Jack Calder series, SAVAGE PAYBACK was launched in late 2013,) He has at least three more novels in the series in the works.
Self-publishing, once the laughing stock of the literary world, is enjoying something of a prolonged moment in the sun too.
Spurred on by the explosion in e-publishing and a slew of high-profile successes by Amanda Hocking, the inspirational poster girl of DIY publishing, the vanity press now exudes a strong whiff of sanity. The note of caution in all this though, is that for every Hocking – who went on, in the manner of a poacher turned gamekeeper, to sign a well-publicised US$2 million (Dh7.3m) publishing deal with St Martin’s Press – there are thousands of other self-published authors who bump along without ever selling more than a handful of copies or breaking even, let alone making any money from their writing. Gallacher, however, is moving along nicely in the hinterland between those two extremes.
The author describes his particular brand of fiction as “good guys smack the bad guys” and “a couple of steps up from chewing gum for the mind”, exhibiting a flash of his self-deprecating sense of humour that shines through persistently during our chat over dinner at one of the capital midtown eateries. A more elegant description of his fiction might be “airport thriller”, an obvious point of reference would be Lee Child and his best-selling Jack Reacher novels.
Gallacher’s Jack Calder books are action-packed affairs that rattle along at a decent pace. The author’s writing style is to make something happen on every page – he favours “bang” over “whimper”, he likes a boiling pot of a plot – and his novels unravel the story of the author’s main man, an ex-SAS serviceman who’s stumbled into gainful employment in the occasionally shady world of private security (“the career of a journeyman mercenary isn’t plotted,” writes the author in The Violin Man’s Legacy).
Calder is, in the author’s telling, “a product of the Glasgow slums”, and is as tough as the streets from which he was hewn. “Govan,” writes Gallacher early in the first book, “was a rough-and-ready dockside neighbourhood, forged in the shadows of the heavy industries associated with the shipyards. Life was uncompromising. A mix of Scots lowlanders and Irish immigrants bred a harsh reality. A man worked or his family went without food. Any quality of life was a direct result of holding down a regular job.”
Gallacher, a product of that same Govan area from which both the great and long-serving football manager Sir Alex Ferguson and Booker Prize-winning author James Kelman also sprang, is as no-nonsense as his fictional protagonist.
The author calls himself an “impact guy” and says that he gets things “executed” at work.
He was tempted to these shores in 2004 by a short-term contract as a “corporate turnaround” expert. He planned to step back into retirement when his month-long mission expired. Upon arrival, he swiftly closed, in his words, a series of “big ticket” deals. On such moments lives change course.
The best laid plans were set aside and Gallacher decided to “hang around” after deciding, not unreasonably, that he “likes the place”. Later in our fish supper he will amplify this statement from “like” to “love”.
Staying on, he began to provide management advice “intermediating” between banks and clients.
“I think I’m fairly straightforward with people, I’m very honest. I call myself an adviser rather than a consultant. I make hard and fast recommendations. No pussyfooting,” he says.
Gallacher is most assuredly not a pussyfooter, but the story of how he walked into writing for both pleasure and profit begins (not surprisingly, given the photograph that accompanies this piece) on the Corniche and with a spot of hotfooting it along the capital’s favourite waterside walkway.
“I spent ten nights walking the length of the Corniche and back every night. I spent my time thinking about what should go in a book like this, from a standing start, nothing at all in my head. I wanted an ending in my head before I started,” he says, before negating the need for a spoiler alert by adding that “by the time I wrote it, it went off in different directions”.
His first book took him three months to complete. “You have to be careful with this stuff,” he says, talking about the writing process, “it is never as good as you think it is. It is your baby. You fall in love with it.”
He attributes his relative writing success to discipline and his businessman-like devotion to process. Inspired by Rachel Abbott, whose self-published debut novel Only the Innocent racked up big sales last year after the author launched an aggressive online marketing campaign, Gallacher drew up a business plan.
“Rachel Abbott’s idea is to make it your business to get out there. That is separate from the business of actually writing. The writing is [another] part of the business. The business is getting your name in front of people so they know where to get the book, how to get it and how to get it cheaply.”
Gallacher turned to LinkedIn for his own online campaign.
“I put it on my LinkedIn and told my connections it was my ‘punch at the moon’. I thought nothing much was going to happen. Within a month I’d sold 80 copies. I thought ‘fantastic’. Within three months it was at 7,000 and within six months we were at 16,000 and now we have 70,000.”
He also tweets and blogs to drum up support for Jack Calder and the rest of the gang who populate his books.
None of this has happened by accident, he says.
“There is a business ethos and campaign behind it. I allocate specific times in the day to do writing, editing and social networking. You have to be very disciplined with it.”
In saying this, Gallacher demonstrates a firm grasp of the fine balance a self-published author must strike between the art of a book itself and the science that helps lift it out of obscurity.
He also offers this advice for any other authors who are about to reveal their work to the world.
“Price it right, don’t gouge people, because if it is good enough they will come back and buy more anyway. Whatever else is happening, keep on writing.”
Nick March is editor of The Review.
Read more: http://www.thenational.ae/arts-culture/books/glaswegian-in-abu-dhabi-enjoys-second-career-as-bestselling-author#full#ixzz2mboXcGwX
Follow us: @TheNationalUAE on Twitter | thenational.ae on Facebook
…I’m currently sitting with my laptop in the lobby of the Jumeirah Etihad Towers Hotel in Abu Dhabi in the Middle East… yes, Mabel, in the United Arab Emirates… where the predominant religion is Islam… this particular hotel is a prestigious edifice, and this morning guests are greeted with an enormous, beautifully-bedecked CHRISTMAS tree in the main lobby… the sound system is softly wafting through the place with CHRISTMAS songs… note, let me repeat, not a ‘seasonal’ tree, nor ‘seasonal’ songs… this is a giant-in-yer-face CHRISTMAS tree… and the melodies are CHRISTMAS songs… there are life-size Models of Santa Claus circling the CHRISTMAS tree… and d’yeez know what?… it doesn’t seem at all out of place… hark over to London and other so-called ‘enlightened’ cities in the UK, where political correctness has long since replaced common sense and sensibility… here in Abu Dhabi, many of my Arabic friends sit easily amongst the CHRISTMAS trappings… they don’t have any hang-up about this stuff… just makes me wonder, that’s all… to underline my point, I’m takingthe liberty of sharing again with yeez a post I did last October, when a dear former colleague passed away… yeez’ll get the drift again, as yeez read it… have a wonderful day… LUV YEEZ…
First Posted October 2012
…I’m a believer, but not of the Catholic persuasion, and a couple of nights ago, I attended a Mass for a dear friend and former colleague who’d passed away suddenly a few days earlier… the St Joseph’s Cathedral in Abu Dhabi, here in the crossroads of the Middle East, was filled to capacity with a congregation made up almost entirely of Catholic faithful from the sub-continent of India… the Mass was led by an Irish Priest, attended by a Filipino gentleman who offered the readings… during the service and invocated prayers, from inside the cathedral we could clearly hear from outside, the Muezzin, the person who calls the Muslim faithful to prayer, doing his duty from a minaret on a nearby mosque… it struck me very forcefully that here indeed was the melange of religion and freedom of prayer in all its forms, right in the heart of the capital of the United Arab Emirates… there were black, brown, white, and arabic believers, all in close proximity, doing what the rest of the world could perhaps be well advised to consider replicating… put aside all supposed differences and live in harmony… it was a beautiful moment for me, and will be a cherished thing for me to take away if and when I leave this country… may your Gods be with you all… thank you for reading this far…
… I make no apologies for regurgitating the following post, which constituted a large part of a piece I offered up more than a year ago… it concerns a topic close to my heart and my laptop, ‘How Self-Publishers Use the SOSYAL NETWURKS’… a mere three days or so ago, I added a cluster of SOSYAL NETWURKIN channels, the WURKINs of which remain quite obscure to me, but my peers prompt me to throw in, namely, Reddit, Digg, Tumblr, Pocket, PinInterest, and other rebelliously -sounding names, so this is something maybe I should read …a-hem…
First Posted in August 2012
..the Merseyside guru of all things Strawberry-Fielded and of All-Day-Sleep-Ins-With-Ladies-Of-Japanese-Names, Master J.Lennon, once invoked us all to Imagine There’s No People…allegedly that was ‘easy if you try’ … nowadays, it seems even more straight forward to imagine, given the propensity to become immersed in SOSYAL MEDYA and the Web Universe to the total exclusion of any contact whatsoever with other members of the human species… learning to use the SOSYAL MEDYA to best effect is somewhat akin to getting rid of all the crocodiles, where ‘all you have to do’ is boil the ocean… easy concept really, but impossible to apply… I once read some advice from a golfer far better than I, which would be almost any golfer truth be known, not to try to play at the level of the best professionals, but to play to my own body shape and strengths… how does that apply to SOSYAL MEDYA? I hear you complain about my diversion there… simply this… there are so many elements that make up the world of electronic linkage nowadays, that trying to hunt down all of them simultaneously is the fastest route to lunacy and abject madness… like golf, there’s usually more than one obstacle to overcome in getting from start to finish… so play to your strengths… if you have a Twitter Twibe following that likes humour, then giggle up your message that way… if your Facebook Friends rejoice in photomontages, get the visuals flying… if your Goodreads Groupies gorge on in-depth descriptive passages, lyricize at will… and if your Blogging Buddies can banter with the best o’ them… indulge the Blarney… understanding that getting your messages across to different audiences requires made-to-measure detail is vital… being the Compleat Idiot that I am, it’s taken me more than a year thus far to fathom some of this stuff, but the dim light is flickering a little clearer as the months roll on… I even expect to see a real person soon one of these days… I’ll scuttle back to my ward now, coz Matron’s pounding down here with that bluudy syringe… see yeez later…
…some of yeez may remember back as far as I can, when Methuselah was a lad… in Britain, family cars were a thing of immense joy… back then, in the fifties, these were not machines used merely to clog up the new motorways and arterial ring-roads… coz most of these modern traffic-ways didn’t even exist then… these wonderful feats of engineering were the pride and joy of yer hard-WURKING dad… if yeez were lucky, yeez were permitted to clean and wax-polish the car every Sunday morning… and once a year (twice if yeez were on the up), the whole family would climb aboard and drive away on yer holidays… none of this foreign destination stuff… aeroplanes and distant climes were off-limits to most people, with the Sterling Area imposition of 30 pounds maximum permitted foreign exchange… (changed days, eh?)… no… destinations rolled off the tongue, and usually traced the seaside Bed & Breakfast havens round the coast… Blackpool, Scarborough, Brighton, Cornwall, Devon, Ayr, Dunoon, and so on, and so on… and we LUVVED IT… as an enduring memento of whatever particular locale hosted us in a given year, we bought car windscreen stickers… wee coloured plasticky-sticky things, with the name of the place, and maybe a wee cartoon showing a landmark of yer holiday nirvana… it also showed off to the neighbours where yeez were able to afford to go on yer ‘holidays’ … ‘vacations’ were for posh folk… we ‘went our holidays’... all this came flashing back in a pleasurable instant yesterday… I decided to click on a few more SOSYAL NETWURKIN channels for the further propagation of this blog of mine… now, sitting car-windscreen-sticker style at the base of each blog post, yeez’ll notice a veritable blizzard of stickers…. the usual icons for Twitter, Facebook, and LinkedIn are now partying with PinInterest, Reddit, Digg, Stumbleupon, and Pocket… I fully expect others to gravitate toward this herd, maybe Grabbitt, Forgettit, Eejitt, and Knit-andPurl-It… I’ve even coined a new WURD for this … it’s called SOSYALMEDYASTICKEROGRAPHY… ye’re welcome… oh-oh, Matron’s here with that bluudy syringe…see yeez later…
…the Authors’ version of Endangered Species… the Lesser-Spotted Literary Agent/Publisher creatures… #TBSU…
…they seek ‘em here… they seek ‘em there… they seek ‘em everywhere… the damned elusive Lesser-Spotted Agent/Publisher creatures… early last century, at a dinner party somewhere in deepest England, a young Winston Churchill was seated next to a ‘sniffy’ posh dame… at the time he sported a neat forerunner to the Movember upper-lip covering, a passable paint-brush moustache… the good Lady blurted to Winnie, ‘…Churchill, I approve of neither your politics nor your moustache…’ …to which our hero replied, ‘…Madam, you are not likely to come in contact with either…’ …it seems the same Non-Engagement Syndrome is destined ‘twixt most budding quill-scrapers and the human channels to Publish-dom… early in my scribbling forays, I ventured to post off dozens of query letters to various addresses in London purporting to house some of these invisible Agency beings… I say ‘purporting to house’, coz many of these epistles remain as yet unacknowledged… and I’m not holding my breath to hear from them any time soon… as a former (whisper it) banker and businessman, I understand the supply and demand factors driving the commercial elements needed to justify the time and expenditure in bringing writers’ WURKS into the universal reading domain… which only lends further puzzlement to me and many in similar situations… I’m not backward at coming forward with squealing to the WURLD about my successes on Amazon Kindle (70,000+ downloads and rising)… and like others in the big global writing family, possessor of a considerable SOSYAL NETWURKIN base (14,000+ direct connections)… I’m beginning to think it’s maybe because I’m Scottish… or my surname’s not the same as that wee Rowling lassie… or my inherent skill at p*ssing people off is coming home to roost… whatever it is, I’m missing that chance I’m sure a lot of yeez Lads and Lassies of Blog Land would like to have… being able to reject an offer from an Agency or a Publisher… see yeez later…
I drove down from Dubai to Abu Dhabi a few days ago and invited Seumas Gallacher to dinner. He’s just launched a new book in his Jack Calder crime series called Savage Payback and I wanted to both congratulate him and find out more.
For those of you who don’t know him, Seumas is a larger than life exuberant character. An old geezer like me who didn’t just go round the block a few times – he built the block.