Showing posts with label Uriah Robinson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Uriah Robinson. Show all posts

The Embiggened O # 44,106: Yep, It’s That Blummin’ Book Again

Chances are you won’t be in the vicinity of Castlecomer, Co. Kilkenny, this coming weekend, but if you are you might want to drop in on the inaugural Castlecomer Writers’ Festival, where yours truly (right) will be hosting two workshops, one titled ‘Fictional Crime’, the other ‘Crime Always Pays’. Or leading everyone in a chorus of All Kinds of Everything, depending on how it goes … Other contributors to the weekend include Neville Thompson, Anita Notaro and Garbhan Downey, and Emerging Writer has all the details …
  Meanwhile, the on-line crime fic community continues its generous cheerleading on THE BIG O’s behalf, with Salman Rushdie’s stunt-double, Uriah Robinson, wibbling thusly:
“Fun is the word I associate with Declan’s book and in my review I wrote that ‘THE BIG O is a loveable rogue of a novel ...’ and great read. The full review is here.”
  Thank you kindly, O Salman-ish of Knowledge. Over at Pitched Up, Mack Lundy does us proud too:
“You know how there are television shows where the cast is perfect and they complement each other – Hill Street Blues, NYPD Blue, Homicide: Life on the Street, The Shield, The Wire, shows like that. That’s the way I felt about the characters in THE BIG O. I liked many of them but was interested in all of them.”
  Nice one, Mack. Oh, and by the way – in Monday’s round-up of BIG O big-ups, I disgracefully neglected to mention the New Mystery Reader. Folks? I’m currently wearing sackcloth and ashes. Mea culpa

The Embiggened O # 1043: Smoke ’Em If You Got ’Em

There was a time when Camberwell was best known for its infamous carrot (see below), its intoxicating powers demonstrated to best effect in WITHNAIL AND I. But no more! For lo, Crime Scraps, run by the mysteriously monikered Uriah Robinson, operates out of the mean streets of Camberwell, a place where the metaphorical stick is more popular a motivational tool than the equally metaphorical carrot, sadly. Anyhoo, Uriah had himself a read of our humble offering THE BIG O over the Christmas, and was kind enough to post his thoughts, to wit:
“This book is a blunt, rude, crude, politically incorrect, raucous, rumbustious, rollicking, romp of a crime caper novel. The characters are larger than life and the action is convoluted and non-stop … THE BIG O is a loveable rogue of a novel and while it is not literature you will have a lot more fun reading it than some labyrinthine incomprehensible Booker prize winner.”
Hmmm. T’would appear Uriah has tumbled to our cunning plan to reverse the John Banville / Benny Blanco strategy, which is to write a half-decent crime caper first, then the incomprehensibly labyrinthine Booker winner, preferably while mashed off our collective bins. Zounds! Foiled again …