First novel I wrote back in 1988. A train enters a tunnel and a group of travellers find they cannot leave their compartment. The train remains travelling through the tunnel for an extended period of time which creates anxiety and confusion amongst the travellers, who eventually break out and find they are alone on the train. Probably influenced by Bunuel's "Exterminating Angel" this has all the problems of a first novel and I haven't looked at it in years.
Second novel written around 1989. A painfully shy and self-obsessed chap moves into rented accommodation and becomes fixated by a fellow tenant who becomes his first girlfriend. When he accidentally kills her, he decides to consume parts of her body in the hope that he might transmute her soul. A cross between Dostoevsky's "Crime and Punishment" and The Stranglers' "La Folie" this novel fails because the main character became so well defined in the first half of the novel as someone who would never do what he does in the second half.
The link above makes it clear that this became my first published novel. Please buy it! I wrote the first half in 1992 and then left it for six years and added a paragraph. I then completed the novel in 1998 and it was published in 2003 by the excellent ENC Press. I remain proud of this work which is a comic satire examining themes of individuality and immortality - themes which appear frequently in my work. It's a lot of fun and riffs a little on Tom Robbins' novels which I love.
I had this idea on a National Express bus journey from Norwich to London and had to keep it in my head and buy a notebook from WH Smith to write it down as soon as the bus stopped! Set in the North and South of England, in Peru and in Hungary, this sets up a N/E/S/W compass point of converging storylines which - whilst it contains some interesting ideas - ultimately fails under the weight of the inherent coincidences required for it to hum along. 'Contrived' would be a better title for the book!
Bobbing For Reality
Always liked this title, but this book's chance has been and gone. Written around 2004/5 separate stories connect a serial dater with a one parent father with a self-employed freelance deflowerer of virgins and a serial killer. Set in New York and London with a large portion of the book revolving around Internet chat rooms and the anonymity they contain, I feel that the massive increase in technology since this was written makes the computer-set-pieces dated and no longer usable. A shame, as I had high hopes for this one.
Finally, since Moon Beaver, a novel I've written which I really think deserves to sell. Taking the irascible PI named Mordent from some short stories I've had published, this is a modern pulp noir crime novel that pitches two rival gangs against each other for the secret of immortality whilst Mordent investigates a missing persons case that is much more than it appears to be on the surface. I had great fun writing this, and I've had some great feedback. This novel is still being pitched to agents and publishers, together with...
Church Of Wire
My second Mordent novel. Mordent investigates a string of cases where a serial killer appears to be targeting the survivors of previous serial killer attacks and whether or not they are linked to a shady religious organisation known as the Church of Wire. As with The Immortalists this story has a healthy dose of pulp sensibility - is drenched in it, in fact - and I have fairly high hopes that both of these will someday be published. Watch this space.
Body And Soul
This the novel I'm working on at the moment. I've reached 75,000 words and am looking for 90,000 minimum. I've tried to be more commercial with this work, which is a far future SF novel set in an age where mankind has regressed technologically and has evolved into beings where for a new birth the females carry the body but the male carries the soul. Both parents have to be present at birth for the pregnancy to be effective, and this world is about to be rent asunder by demons from Earth's past. Again, I'm fairly hopeful with this, but considering the above I guess the question is:
Why do I bother with novels?
And the answer is:
because some stories demand to be told that way.