Category Archives: Guest Post

Guest Post: Nic Parker on Hull Noir 2017

The dedicated Nic Parker, author of ‘Descent to Hell‘ travelled all the way from Germany to attend the inaugural Hull Noir. 

I was gutted not to be there myself but I know Nic is the perfect person to tell us all about the weekend. Thanks to Nic for sharing her weekend with us! 

Vic x

Hull Noir 
By Nic Parker

Hull Noir was brought to life as part of Hull being City of Culture 2017. Reykjavik is Hull’s twin city. The Iceland Noir festival takes part in Reykjavik every other year and the following year moves to another city so this was a brilliant move for Hull.

My weekend at Hull Noir kicked off on Friday night with the Getting Carter event at the Kardomah94. Nick Triplow talked to Cathi Unsworth, introducing Ted Lewis to the audience, speaking about the life and work of the Hull-born Lewis with some of Lewis’s old friends present. Triplow said that even after researching Lewis for over ten years, he still learns new facts about him. Ted Lewis created Brit Noir but was way ahead of his time and never got acknowledged for it – until now. Nick Triplow has done Ted Lewis proud in bringing this literary hero of Hull back into the spotlight.

Saturday marked Hull Noir’s official start with the Sleeping with the Fishes – Hull vs. Iceland panel. As Hull and Reykjavik are twin cities both known for their fishing industries, Nick Quantrill chaired David Mark, Lilja Sigurdadottir and Quentin Bates, who discussed the different types of crime in both cities. It was intriguing to hear that while Hull has left its worst behind, crime is on the rise in Reykjavik due to the huge amount of tourists visiting each year. Transgressions in Reykjavik are higher than before and a lot of the crimes are drug-related, an issue Sigurdadottir picked up for her book Snare.

Craphouse to Powerhouse was the title of the second panel where Danielle Ramsay, Jay Stringer, Luca Veste and Paul Finch discussed post-industrial crime fiction in the North, particularly on the northern part of the M62. For me, as a foreigner, it is always fascinating to hear how that North/South way of thinking is still very much present in today’s Britain. Despite talk of gruesome murder, the authors pulled the audience right in and there was also a lot of laughter, thanks to Stringer and Veste.

The panel Into the Darkness delivered what its title promised. Jake Arnott, Emma Flint, Joseph Knox and Cathi Unsworth talked about murder set in different time periods and how protagonists don’t always have to be only good characters. Joseph Knox takes his readers to modern day parties in drug-ridden Manchester locations. Emma Flint talked about how the perception of a person based on her looks can lead us to condemn someone we don’t know and how it was even worse in 1965. Jake Arnott evokes ‘Romeville’, the underworld of 1720s London, rife with crime and even using criminal slang. When Cathi Unsworth mentioned her next book would be about a mysterious murder involving dark magic there was a murmur of anticipation in the audience.

Martina Cole celebrating her twenty-five year silver jubilee as a crime writer on stage with Barry Forshaw was a definite highlight of the festival. Cole is a wonderful person, sharp and funny – she should have her own television show. She talked about how her career started, how she wrote stories to entertain herself and how she got her first agent, with whom she has stayed all this time. Martina mentioned how many of the men and women in prison she met are not villains but often people who made one stupid decision in their life that ended up with them behind bars. She has encountered men who can’t even properly write their own names, stating that a gorgeous face is not enough in life and how very important education is. She also spoke out against the snobbery in the publishing industry that doesn’t seem to have changed much since she started out. She remains not only the bestselling author in the UK, whose books are the most stolen – ‘I might’ve nicked a few myself’, she grinned – but also an inspiration for authors. It was the perfect event to end the first day of Hull Noir.

Sunday saw Getting Away With Murder at ten o’clock and despite the early time the audience was in for a treat. Ayo Onatade did a brilliant job chairing Abir Mukherjee, Rachel Rhys and Matt Wesolowski. Who would have predicted Mukherjee and Wesolowski would be such a great act on stage, bouncing gags off each other within the minute. Rhys and Mukherjee said they needed a lot more research due to the time their stories are set in. Rhys had found and talked to a woman who had actually done the trip from the UK to Australia in 1939 on a cruise ship so she got first hand information. Mukherjee watched old Pathé films on Youtube to get a feel for 1919s Calcutta but, finally, visited India to get a real taste of the country his story was set in. Matt Wesolowski, deemed the baby of the group at thirty-six, used the ultra modern structure of a podcast in his first novel, listing his influences as podcasts like Serial and Someone Knows Something. While they are all glad about new technology, Wesolowski said he didn’t want his young son growing up only valuing himself if he received enough likes on Instagram or Facebook. Rhys is still reluctant to welcome all aspects of modern technology into her life. All three authors mentioned how fond they still are of notebooks, enjoying scribbling down whatever comes to their minds.

William Ryan chaired the Freedom, Opression and Control panel with Eva Dolan, Stav Sherez and Kati Hiekkapelto and the sombre atmosphere of this issue was almost tangible. Oppression of people is not only a thing of the past, like in Ryan’s book set in the UK under the SS-regime, it also concerns people who are regarded differently, like a transgender woman in Dolan’s story. Stav Sherez explored the often ignored danger that lures in the depths of the internet while Hiekkapelto deals with an ongoing issue for which there seems no current solution: the refugee crisis and how badly these people are often treated. Hiekkapelto stunned the audience by asking them what it means to have freedom and if anyone feels like they are really free, a question many might have thought about long after the panel had ended.

Off The Beaten Track saw the wonderful Jacky Collins asking Sarah Ward, David Young, Antti Tuomainen and Daniel Pembrey about the different settings of their books. Pembrey has lived in Amsterdam and Luxembourg and used these places as settings whereas Young set his books in Eastern Germany in 1975. Young toured with his band in the eastern part of Germany a few years ago, eager to learn about what life was like there before the wall came down. Tuomainen, who has a wonderful dry humour, wondered how a reader could buy his yarn about setting up a fictitious mushroom factory yet his mistake of naming a wrong street in an existing town upset said reader.

A Year In The Crime Writing Life of John Connolly and Mark Billingham ended the festival on Sunday with Jake Kerridge as ringmaster, often having trouble keeping the  other two in line. I’ve seen Connolly and Billingham on stage a few times before and it’s always a treat. Their stories and humour had the audience laughing with tears rolling down their faces.

When asked about their highs and lows of the past year Billingham said his lowest was when he got massively hacked. Connolly was moved telling about his highlight of the year, how he had felt honoured to be on stage at the Panopticon in Glasgow where Stan Laurel had made his stage debut. I urge everyone who is a fan of Laurel & Hardy to read he by Connolly. It’s not crime fiction but a very moving and loving tale about Laurel & Hardy, evoking the golden era of old Hollywood. Speaking of comedians, Billingham and Connolly are always a brilliant act, exchanging puns and jokes and spinning many an entertaining yarn. Putting these two great authors on as the last panel was a genius move as the festival ended on a total high.

 

I had an absolute blast at Hull Noir and somehow it ended all too fast. I had time to chat with old friends and met lots of wonderful new people. The small and not overcrowded venue gave you enough time, as well as the opportunity, to chat to the authors after the panels and not spend your entire time between events standing in line to get your book signed/hunting for a coffee/going to the loo.

The festival surpassed all of my expectations. The panels were very clever and it was pure entertainment getting to hear from new talents and seasoned authors alike.

I can’t thank Nick Triplow, Nick Quantrill and Nikki East enough for putting together such a brilliant programme and for creating an awesome event everyone will be talking about for a long time. Hull Noir was a great success and here’s hoping this wonderful event will be repeated.

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Guest Post: Mark Hill on Minor Characters. 

In September, I went to Bloody Scotland for the first time (I’m not being offensive by the way – Bloody Scotland is a crime writing festival held in Stirling). It was a fantastic experience and I’d recommend that fans of crime fiction book up for next year. 

The first panel I attended was Alex Gray‘s New Crimes featuring Ian Skewis (author of ‘A Murder of Crows‘), Felicia Yap (writer of ‘Yesterday‘), Rob Ewing (whose debut novel is ‘The Last of Us‘) and, last but not least, the author of ‘Two O’Clock Boy‘, Mark Hill. The panel was really interesting and each reader read an excerpt of their debut novel as well as answering questions from Alex and the audience. 


Mark Hill has kindly agreed to share his thoughts on minor characters today. Thanks to Mark for sharing his thoughts on this subject. 

Vic x

Guest Post: Mark Hill on Minor Characters. 

Pull up a chair, authors, and let’s talk about those characters in your books who never get enough attention. They’re usually ignored by readers and reviewers, who prefer to concentrate all their praise on the terrific narrative arc of your awesome protagonist and their battle with the evil antagonist.

I’m talking about the little people, that supporting cast of characters who appear all too briefly in your book. They may be a witness to a crime, a lawyer guy, or the newsagent who sells your protag a packet of Revels. They appear for a scene or two, perhaps, and then… they’re gone forever.

Your minor characters get a few fleeting paragraphs to register in the consciousness of the reader, but by the end of the book, let’s face it, they’re usually long forgotten. It’s not their fault, they did their job. In the big scheme of things, they’re just not that important.

But those minor characters deserve your love and attention just as much as your main cast. It’s easy to write them as shallow stereotypes, but they deserve personalities all of their own, and feelings, and depth of character. Give them their moment in the sun.

For example, I used to do a lot of script reports for new writers. I read hundreds of scripts, perhaps thousands. Films scripts, TV scripts, play scripts. If old ladies appeared in those scripts they’d often be described as having white hair and wearing a cardigan. They were the most generic old ladies ever. They’d invariably call everybody ‘dear’ a lot. As in ‘hello, dear,’ ‘yes, dear’ and ‘would you like a cup of tea, dear?’

Because if an old lady appeared, you could bet your life that a cup of tea would be sure to follow. Now I love tea as much as the next fellow– milk, no sugar, since you’re asking – but I often wondered what would happen if instead of clutching a teapot the old lady would appear with a crack-pipe… or a DVD of extreme porn… or sporting a purple Mohican hairstyle.

In my crime debut Two O’Clock Boy, there’s not a teapot in sight. I’ve got a couple of senior citizens, but they’re tricky and ferocious characters – and I hope counter-intuitive. Myra Drake is an eighty something with an acid tongue and the predatory eye of a vulture. True, Harry Crowley does lean on a walking stick – a typical prop for an old person – but he uses it to slyly manipulate the people around him into thinking he’s more frail than he actually is.

Treat them with love and care, and you never know when your supporting characters will become the breakout stars of your next novel. Take our old friend Hannibal Lecter…

Thomas Harris practically reinvented the serial killer thriller with Red Dragon. Banged up in a small cell, Hannibal appeared briefly. But his watchful, enigmatic presence dominated the narrative.

Up until then serial killers had tended to be grubby little men banging nails into cages in basements. Lecter was different. He was a high-functioning polymath, a lover of fine wine, opera and art – a man who hid his true nature behind a veneer of immaculate taste and sophistication. He also ate people. Harris took the serial killer out of the basement and put him in the penthouse. With that one minor character he flipped the reader’s expectations – and hit gold.

Lecter didn’t get many pages – but by the time Silence Of The Lambs came along, he was the leading man. Now, practically every fictional serial killer is a smarmy know-all with a penchant for turning murder into high-art.

So when you’re thinking about the minor characters in your crime novel, take a moment to consider how you can make them shine. Use all those god-given powers you have to make shit up, all your skills of description and dialogue and storytelling, to give them that tweak that will turn them from ‘Walk-On Part A’ to ‘Charismatic Scene-Stealer.’

But just do me a favour: don’t offer them a cup of tea.

Don’t Quit the Day Job: Dave Sivers

Lots of people don’t realise that although you may see work by a certain author on the bookshelves in your favourite shop, many writers still hold down a day job in addition to penning their next novel. In this series, we’ll talk to writers about how their current – or previous – day jobs have inspired and informed their writing.

Today as part of ‘Don’t Quit the Day Job’, we have Dave Sivers here to talk to us about how being a civil servant helped inspire him to write the Archer and Baines novels. Yes, really! 

My thanks to Dave for taking the time to share his experiences with us. You can find Dave on Twitter and Facebook

Vic x

I’ve pretty much always been a writer, ever since I was six years old. But for 40 years, before I took the plunge into indie authorship, and before the Archer and Baines novels, I was a career civil servant.

Every morning, I’d put on a suit and either catch the train to London or drive off to a meeting somewhere. You’re probably already imagining a grey office, full of grey people, some of them covered in cobwebs, drinking copious cups of tea and churning out dry-as-dust papers on even drier subjects.

It’s a caricature with a grain of accuracy in it, but I mostly enjoyed that career and was usually happy enough to get out of bed in the morning. I worked on a wide range of policy issues, and no two days were the same. I got some great travel opportunities and got to do some interesting things. I also met all kinds of characters, including quite a few military people, and some serious game players who knew exactly how to get their way.

Every writer’s everyday life is grist to the creative mill. What I didn’t know at the time, though, was how much the day job was preparing me a new career, after early retirement, when I’d be writing police procedurals.

Writing those papers was in itself an invaluable writing discipline: adopting the right voice for the right circumstances, drafting and redrafting, writing to a length and deadline. But it’s only recently that I’ve come to realise just how much more I owe to those Whitehall days.

As a storyteller, I’m far more pantster than plotter. When I start a book, I invariably have a body. I (usually) know who did it. But I will have either a hazy idea, or no idea at all, of how the killer will get caught. That comes out in the writing. Effectively, I sit on my cops’ shoulders and watch their investigation unfold. And it’s my civil service instincts that are telling me what they need to do.

For a start, I worked in teams as do the police, in a hierarchy that more or less mirrored the police ranking system. And we might not have unmasking murderers, but there was a lot of problem solving involved – which meant gathering information, and knowing what questions to ask, and whom to ask them of.

Of course, I still need to make calls and do internet searches to check whether what they get up to is plausible, or even legal, as well as checking out some of the smaller details I sprinkle around. But it turns out that all those years in a suit were invaluable training for imagining myself into the briefing room at Aylesbury nick and deciding what Archer and Baines need to do next to catch their killer.

My old day job included drafting answers to Parliamentary Questions, and some unkind souls have suggested – unfairly, obviously – that I was always a fiction writer! I’m saying nothing.

The latest book in the Archer & Baines series – ‘The Blood that Binds’ – is available now. 

Don’t Quit the Day Job – Neil Broadfoot on Working with Words.

Lots of people don’t realise that although you may see work by a certain author on the bookshelves in your favourite shop, many writers still hold down a day job in addition to penning their next novel. In this series, we’ll talk to writers about how their current – or previous – day jobs have inspired and informed their writing.

Today as part of ‘Don’t Quit the Day Job’, Neil Broadfoot is here to talk to us about how his work life has inspired his fiction.

Earlier this year, it was confirmed in ‘The Bookseller‘ that Neil had signed a three-book deal with Constable for a new crime series set in Stirling. The first in the series, ‘No Man’s Land‘ is due out in hardback in July 2018. 

Vic x

I always wanted to be a writer. Since the day my primary school teacher passed me an empty jotter with a scalded-pink cardboard cover (which I’m sure my mum still has) it’s all I ever wanted to do. My mum was convinced I would be a doctor or a lawyer. My teachers in high school advised a career in history or IT. But, no, I knew. Writing. That was where my future lay.

It was that certainty that led me into journalism. I wanted to write, I wanted to work with words until the day came when I could do a Stephen King (my childhood literary hero), get a deal and write full-time. It hasn’t quite worked out like that – I’ve still got a day job and I write mostly at night – but you know what, I wouldn’t change a thing.

Why? Because journalism taught me how to write. And, more importantly, it kicked the ego out of me early on.

Let me explain. I get asked a lot about how I write a book. How do you start? Where do you get your ideas? How do you find time? The truth is there’s no magic formula, no muse waiting to sprinkle fairy dust on you and set you on the way. Writing is a job. OK, for me it’s a job that never feels like work, but it is a job. You have to sit down, and hammer out the words. Sentence by sentence, paragraph by paragraph, page by page, day by day. In newspapers, there’s no time to sit and stare blankly out of the window seeking inspiration. A page lead (the main story on the page) might run to 500 words. And you need to write three of them. To a tight deadline. A splash (front page)? That’s 800-1000 words (more if it spreads over multiple pages in the paper). And you have to write it. The single best thing I got out of being a journalist (other than my wife, but that’s a different story) was the ability to see writing as a job. You have a word count and a deadline and you hit it.

But there’s more. Working in newspapers is also a masterclass in the mechanics of story telling. All stories should address six key points – who, what, when, where, how and, most importantly, why. In my first novel, Falling Fast, I had nothing more than the what and the where when I started. I was walking through Princes Street, saw the Scott Monument and had the idea that someone should fall from there into the crowds below (what can I say, I was having a bad day at work).

That was it. I wrote the opening chapter, sat back and thought “What next?” I didn’t have a clue, so I approached the story like a journalist: asking questions, following leads, filling in the what, when, how and who. I didn’t get to the why until about 65,000 words, and I can still remember writing the sentence that unlocked the whole story. Writing Falling Fast was a voyage of discovery, and I loved every minute. It’s why I write the way I do and hate plotting; if I’m trying to work the story out as I go then it keeps it alive and fresh for me. And hopefully that comes through in the work.

I don’t work in newspapers any more, the cuts imposed by accountants and directors who don’t understand newspapers reduced the job I loved to a simple act of reheating other people’s work and slapping it into a pre-made template on a page. But I still work with words every day in communications. And at night, when it’s just me and the keyboard and the story, I’m still there, reporting back what I’ve found for myself and the readers.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Guest Post: Paul Bassett Davies on How to be a Writer.

Regular readers of the blog will know that I recently readDead Writers in Rehab‘ by Paul Bassett Davies – and loved every second of it! 

In his own inimitable style, Paul is here today to share some “tips” on how to be a writer. 

Caution: this man writes comedy – take his advice lightly. 
If you appreciate the sentiment behind these brilliant suggestions, more writing advice will be coming soon in a series of podcasts. Details will be appearing on his blog

Vic x

How to be a Writer.
part one: Getting Started.

So, you want to be a writer? Great! Wait until you’re sober, then read the following essential guide to what you will need.

Somewhere to write.
Try to find a large, quiet space with natural light and a nice view. If you do, sell it immediately. Forget writing, and go into property. Make some real money. Otherwise, settle  for somewhere reasonably quiet, comfortable and clean. So, obviously not your place. Maybe a friend with a nice house has a spare room you can use. Which would be a mistake. Having friends is a sign you may not be a serious writer. Don’t worry, you’ll soon lose them. Meanwhile, try at least to position your desk near a window. But don’t look out of the window in the morning, or you’ll have nothing to do in the afternoon.

 

Something to write with.
Use whatever you’re comfortable with: a pencil, a typewriter, a computer, or perhaps an expensive fountain pen you bought because you were convinced it would somehow make your writing more stylish and sophisticated. And sure enough, you were wrong. But everyone has their own idiosyncrasies. Myself, I need to have seven freshly sharpened pencils beside me when I begin work each day. I don’t write in pencil – I use a computer like everyone else, but I need to have exactly seven freshly-sharpened HB pencils beside me, no more, no less. Some people might say this seems obsessive. These are undoubtedly the same people who say I’m paranoid and vindictive. But I know who they are, and where they live, and I know what their deepest fears are.

Someone to help.
It’s said that one famous author employed a butler whose job was to leave the house before the author woke up, taking all his trousers with him. This cut down the author’s scope for displacement activities like “popping out to buy some milk” for several hours. If you can’t afford a butler, throw your trousers out of the window yourself. If you haven’t got the willpower to do that, most writers find it takes very little to provoke a spouse or partner to throw all their clothes out of the house. All you have to do is say something like, “Hello darling, how was your day? I’m exhausted, because creative thinking is much harder work than your teaching job, even when I do it lying here on the couch all day.” That should do the trick. If you can’t afford a window, hide your trousers and get drunk, so you don’t remember where they are in the morning. If you can’t afford trousers, congratulations; you’re already on the way to becoming a truly committed writer.

Time.
Writing is a full time job, even when you’re not doing it. Much of your most valuable work is done when it looks as if you’re just taking a nap, or lying in a bath. But it’s important to be disciplined, otherwise those precious hours can just slip away. So, organise your day, and waste time according to a strict schedule.

Money.
All writers deserve to have an independent income. Many writers have incomes that are so fiercely independent they never see them.

Coffee.
Plenty of coffee. Especially in the morning. Personally, I like my coffee the way I like an amusing analogy I’ll be able to come up with when I’ve had some coffee.

Something to write.
This is covered in part two, How to Have an Idea, including the advanced modules: How to Have the Same Idea Again, and How to Have Someone Else’s Idea.

*Fox Hunter Blog Tour* Guest Post: Zoë Sharp on Keeping a Series Fresh.

2017 Book Tour Blog.pdfWhen I first joined Twitter in 2011, one of the first people I interacted with was Zoë Sharp, author of the Charlotte ‘Charlie’ Fox crime thriller series.

Since then, Zoë and I have met at several events – including her reading at a few of the Noir at the Bars I’ve presented. Zoë’s prose is like her love of fast cars and motorbikes – fast-paced – and she always gets a great reaction from the audience when she reads her work. Having been privy to an advance copy of Zoë’s latest novelFox Hunter, I can understand why. 

Zoë is a joy to be around and I’m delighted to have her on the blog today to talk about how to keep a series fresh – and she would know having written twelve novels in the Charlie Fox series.

When she’s not chipping away at the word-face of another book, Zoë can usually be found international pet-sitting or renovating houses so I’m very humbled that she found time to write this brilliant post.

Vic x

Photo by Nick Lockett

KEEPING A SERIES FRESH
By Zoë Sharp

One of the hardest things when you write a long-running series is keeping it fresh. Not only for the reader, but for the author as well. I think that’s one of the reasons I never really gave Charlie Fox a regular job in law enforcement. So, she doesn’t get summoned from her bed to go and inspect the body at the latest crime scene—in fact, she’s more likely to be asked to prevent there being a body in the first place.

This constant search for a new challenge for Charlie is why her career has evolved throughout the series, and is still doing so. When we pick her up in the early books she is a self-defence instructor, someone who’s been a victim of violent attack herself and is now determined to teach others to look after themselves.

I know some people build hugely successful series around such an amateur sleuth, but I knew from the start I was going to take her in the direction of personal protection in a more professional guise, even if she wasn’t sure.

When she agreed to go undercover into a bodyguard training school in the third book, Hard Knocks, she didn’t fully appreciate that she was going to follow that path, first working for her former army mentor, Sean Meyer, in the UK, and then moving with him when he became a partner in Parker Armstrong’s prestigious agency in New York City.

Now, as the latest book, Fox Hunter, closes, the future is looking a lot more uncertain for Charlie, and I have some choices about where she goes next. I’d already laid in some strands for her future in previous stories. If I know something like this is going to come up, I try not to make it unbelievable when it does. Inevitably, she’s met some interesting people along the way—some of whom may want to kill her, and some of whom owe her their lives. It’s not unreasonable that their paths may cross again occasionally. After all, she’s been moving in a small and exclusive world.

Charlie has changed quite a bit as a character as the series has progressed. Keeping her static and unchanging would have been difficult as she faced different challenges with every book, and her personal and emotional life swirled around her.

In particular, exploring her capacity for violence has always been fascinating for me. She’s very familiar with it in all its forms, and can be utterly ruthless when the occasion demands, but she’s not without conscience. If you threaten her—or someone she cares about, or feels responsible for—she’ll kill you without a second thought. But she’ll go a long way to avoid a confrontation if she can.

That much hasn’t changed about Charlie. Right from the first book, Killer Instinct, where she plays the clown to side-step proving her self-defence abilities to an aggressive club doorman (thereby proving them by another means) up to Fox Hunter, her twelfth outing, where she gives someone who tries to forcibly detain her two chances to step aside before she takes him apart.

Perhaps because she is ever-changing, I try hard not to repeat myself, either in storyline or action sequence, or in her interaction with the recurring characters. Madeleine Rimmington, whom Charlie dislikes on first meeting in book two, Riot Act, is slowly becoming a friend.

And as she enters the next phase of her life, Charlie may find she needs all the friends she can get…

Don’t Quit the Day Job: Neil White on A Life of Crime

Today we’re kicking off a new series on the blog entitled ‘Don’t Quit the Day Job’. 

Lots of people don’t realise that although you may see work by a certain author on the bookshelves in your favourite shop, many writers still hold down a day job in addition to penning their next novel. In this series, we’ll talk to writers about how their current – or previous – day jobs have inspired and informed their writing.

Today I have the pleasure of hosting Neil White on the blog. Neil read at Noir at the Bar in Harrogate this year and it was a delight working with him. He’s taken the time to speak to me about a life of crime – thanks for sharing your story with us, Neil!

Vic x

Readers of crime fiction follow the genre for the excitement, the intrigue, the thrills. How does that match with life in the world of real crime?

I’ve been a criminal solicitor for more than twenty years, working as both a defence lawyer and a prosecutor, and I’d love to tell you of things I’ve done that will show how spine-tingling it can be. The race to get to witnesses in time, bringing them to court under the protection of blankets, always acting under the threat of violent repercussions, exposed to gangland threats and psychopathic murderers.

Of course, it would be exciting if that reflected real life, but it doesn’t.

That isn’t to say that working in criminal law doesn’t come with its occasional moments of intrigue and excitement, but the reality is that most of any lawyer’s immersion into crime is long stretches of tedium interspersed with moments of amusement.

As I write this, I am sitting in a Magistrates Court, water dripping through the ceiling, part of the public gallery sealed off by builder’s tape, awaiting a verdict on a trial involving a spat at a party. There is some anticipation, but not at any level that could be called exciting. It will never be an inspiration for a bestselling novel, but it’s what constitutes the day-to-day life of most criminal lawyers.

In writing crime fiction, as a criminal lawyer, I want to be realistic, but does realistic mean “as real life”? For the most part, being a lawyer helps when writing crime, but there is also the temptation to include too much of the mundane. What I have to tell myself is that the character has many such dull days, with routine and tedium, but the story I am telling is the one exciting case they get a year. Every lawyer gets them. The dinner party story, or one of those war stories bandied around when passing time in the courtroom, lawyers reminiscing as an excuse for not talking to their client pacing outside.

As a prosecutor, the excitement would come from a murder, when a suspect was in custody and the police needed a decision to be made before there was a risk of the custody clock running out. Whichever lawyer gets the job can often be down to a mixture of enthusiasm and availability. Becoming involved in a murder case during the arrest phase isn’t something that clocks off at five o’clock, and sometimes I just had something else planned.

For my part, I tended to get landed with the complex fraud cases, usually out of curiosity. I’d be wandering through the office and see a couple of boxes of files being booked in by one of the people whose job it is to book these things in and I’d stop by, enquire as to the contents, out of nothing more than an inquisitive mind. I knew that every prosecutor in the room had taken a sudden interest in their fingernails, knowing what was coming, but I couldn’t stop myself.

I’d respond with a “that sounds interesting”, because I’m curious like that, and because I’m polite, and then listen to the collective sigh of relief as it was announced that the case had become mine. A reward for my interest. I never learned.

Does it make it easier to write crime fiction being a lawyer? Perhaps. A little bit.

I think it helps with the ability to look at things coldly and objectively, to take a step outside of the emotional attachment. It helps too to be comfortable with the subject matter. I’m used to looking at forensic statements and dealing with police procedures and the rules of evidence. If I need to research something, I can perhaps get to the end point much quicker.

Apart from those things, however, I’m not sure it makes a whole lot of difference, and in some ways can be a hindrance, because the desire to be accurate can override the need to be interesting. Sometimes, I find myself looking at a story as a lawyer, not a writer, and you read my books to hear a writer write, not a lawyer speak.

One thing writing about crime does do, however, is that it reminds me why I chose it as a career. At its best, the courtroom is high drama. It’s conflict and dispute, about dark deeds hidden or uncovered, often a glimpse into how others people live their lives. It is that reality, the human side of crime, which drives my love of the subject. I love crime. I love it that much I’m pretty sure that if I hadn’t qualified as a lawyer, I’d have chosen criminality as a career.

Some may say that the dividing line between a lawyer and a crook is a pretty thin one anyway. I could not possibly comment.