On Wednesday afternoon I scuttled out of work early to catch the bus up to London. The reason: to attend the second launch event for Macmillan's New Writing imprint; or, to put it another way, get pissed on free champagne with my chum Roger Morris.
First I had to find the place. I got off the tube at Leicester Square, wandered down Charing Cross Road and found Cecil Court. I then walked the length of Cecil Court which is full of antique and specialist bookshops but I failed to spot the one I was actually looking for, Goldsboro Books. I retraced my steps then retraced my retraced steps and finally spotted the place.
Goldsboro Books is tiny, about the size of toilet cubicle. How could they hold a book launch in such a tiny space? I was at the correct Goldsboro Books, wasn't I? Needing to purchase a copy of Roger's Taking Comfort
, I sucked in my gut and stepped into the shop. I tentatively mumbled at the man at the counter that I was there for the reading. He pointed outside. "Across the road, through that door and down the stairs." Aha! A concealed entrance to a secret basement. How very intriguing.
As I descended the stairs my imagination did conjure up all manner of bizarre scenarios that I might find in that basement - a high class crackhouse, a literati orgy, demonic rituals, human sacrifices - but it turned out to be a little room with tables and chairs set out and some people milling around chatting.
I grabbed some bubbly, found Roger and apologized that I had failed to bring any rotting vegetable matter along with which to pelt him when it was his turn to read. As it turned out, each of the six authors read for only two minutes after the man in charge of MNW, Michael Barnard, gave a brief overview of the imprint and addressed some of the controversies that it had provoked (which he has covered in full in his own book, Transparent Imprint).
As well as finally meeting Roger face-to-face for the first time, there are a couple of others who can now be moved from the "virtual acquaintences" box under the stairs to the "actual real-life acquaintences" display cabinet in the lounge. First of all, there was Jim Younger whose novel High John The Conqueror is released in May; there was also the Disgruntled Commuter who turned out not to be that disgruntled at all. She's very good company, in fact.
One unexpected pleasure was the presence of Jennifer Prado, a writer from across the Atlantic. Not only did I know her from Zoetrope (as indeed I wouldn't have known Roger or Jim or Disgruntled if it had not been for Zoetrope) but I also wrote music to accompany a story of hers that appeared in Mad Hatters' Review #3. We ended up having a very insteresting conversation about music and busking but I am glad to say that, despite the copious amount of alcohol I consumed that night, I didn't bore her rigid with how I passed a drum loop through a vocoder to get that plinky noise at the beginning of the tune I wrote for her story.
Oh yeah, and Bal was there but he doesn't count because I've met him before. (Hi Bal!).
All in all, a bloody good night. I am now going to take advantage of the Easter Bank Holiday weekend and read my signed copy of Taking Comfort. If you haven't bought a copy then you should because a) Roger is a great writer, b) the premise of the novel is a fascinating one and c) Roger is a bloody nice bloke.
