Word Monkey

I’m always drawn to good books about the art of writing as good ones are surprisingly rare (which is why Stephen King’s On Writing often gets mentioned). I spotted this book while browsing in Liverpool and had to treat myself (it is still in hardback). I had heard of Christopher Fowler but not read any of his works. You may know him for the popular Bryant and May detective series.

Christopher died last year and it’s sad we’ve been deprived of such a talent. He was very funny and if, like me, this is your introduction to his work it is an excellent showcase.

He was a prolific writer of novels, short stories and screenplays.

This book is quite a hefty read but I breezed through it and it made me laugh so much. It is quite tricky to categorise and perhaps best described as a memoir crossed with a diary and snapshots of advice and reflections on an industry that leaves a trail of broken dreams in its wake.

Chris – I think I can call him that such is his connection with the reader – also details his treatment for cancer and past illnesses in witty and precise prose which captures the agonies and emotions perfectly. He reflects on a South London childhood subjected to any amount of domestic toxins (paint, creosote, cigarettes, asbestos) which will resonate with many readers who are the wrong side of 45.

And a house where there was nothing to read except knitting patterns and motorcycle manuals.

He’s great on his first job in advertising too and the crazy lunchtime (and all afternoon) drinks culture of Soho. Most impressive of all is his spirit and his industry. Poor health and other worries never blunted a work ethic that saw him write 50 novels and short story collections.

The claim is often made about books that you’ll be snorting with laughter in public and annoying people. It’s a genuine claim on this occasion. Chris is very funny when talking about the writer’s CV he needs to prepare. He’s in hospital and his obituary is on his mind.

He feels he’s coming up short compared to the typical post-war writer’s biography he imagines in a chapter called ‘A Rubbish CV.’

‘Rick Francisco is the pen name of Wing Commander ‘Blaster’ Howard Jenkins, who bombed the Ruhr dams and was shot down seven times during the war. As a young man he scaled the fabled ‘Fourth Peak’ of Kilimanjaro, which was to feature in his most famous painting, finished at the age of 87 and displayed at the Royal Academy. He was a key figure in the creation of the state of Palestine. In Paris he befriended Picasso and Salvador Dali, recruiting them as spies to work as peacekeepers in British Malaya. He married Countess Maria von Dorsenberg in 1959 and had eleven children, seven of whom formed an award-winning choir….’

Among the entries on Chris’s CV:

‘Wrote two embarrassing comedy books that now belong in a time capsule set to an opening date sometime after the ants have reclaimed the Earth.’

He’s great on the film and publishing industries too, detailing the endless rejection and let-downs and crazy, unfathomable behaviour of commissioning editors.

If you’d like a laugh, to be entertained and learn more about an interesting life sadly cut short I’d highly recommend this book. It’s published by Doubleday.