Everyone lies on their pathetic little website so I thought I’d do something unexpected and tell the absolute complete God’s honest truth. Let’s see… I’m incredibly handsome. Indescribably intelligent. The most brilliant writer since… Since… Since… Well… William Dickens or Charles Shakespeare. I used to play guitar in the Beatles. I’m an opera singer. Beyoncé is my stalker (she’s so irritating!). I once played football for Real Madrid. I have an Olympic gold medal for water polo. Andy Murray used to be my ball boy. I played clarinet with Lorraine Bowen. I’m a former sports and music writer. Muhammad Ali once kissed my girlfriend. I’m the secret love child of Marlon Brando and Tessie O’Shea. The New York Times once glowingly described me as ’That bloke…’
Oh yes… And I’ve writ quite a few books that you really ought to be buying right now if you have any sense at all.
PS Just so as you know, my life is a work in progress.
A long time ago in a galaxy far away my fingers writ a book entitled THE INTERNET INCIDENT. For some peculiar reason the Americans changed its title to INTERNET SPY, which made me mad. With its swanky new Americanised title this really rather pointless little book then proceeded to sell a LOT – and I mean a LOT – of copies in the US, which made me happy. But I was still a bit miffed that the Americans had changed my lovely title, which was a sort of tribute to THE OTTERBURY INCIDENT by Cecil Day Lewis. To retaliate I writ a book entitled VIRUS OUTBREAK, which was about lots of people dying from the Ebola Virus, which was rather strange and Nostradamus-like because many years later a lot of people really did die of the Ebola Virus. This made me sad and not remotely smug that I had predicted this cataclysmic event with alarmingly accurate prescience. The fact that the book didn’t sell many copies also made me sad, although obviously not so sad as I felt upon hearing that lots of people had died of the Ebola Virus.
Next I writ a book about boxing called ROPE BURNS. This was because for a while I was quite involved in this strange sport and derived a certain amount of perverse pleasure from watching people hit each other. Next I writ a book that was really rubbish but luckily nobody knows I writ it because I used a pseudonym. If you go HERE you won’t see it.
Then I got really ill and couldn’t write anything for donkey’s years. Although I did manage to put my name to THIS… And THIS… And THIS… And even a book of photographs entitled A BOOK OF PHOTOGRAPHS.
Then I got really well and wrote JOHNNY NOTHING for my daughter. The Chicago Tribune described this hilarious book as ‘A book for his daughter…’. And then my dad died so I published an old book that is probably about my dad and had been sitting around doing nothing and gave it a really silly title. HERE it is.
In no particular order:
• Playing clarinet with Lorraine Bowen on THE CRUMBLE SONG
• A piece I wrote for THE GUARDIAN about how I almost dropped dead in my socks
• When the DAILY MAIL read my Guardian piece they asked me to write my very own piece for them. I wish I hadn’t
• A seriously great review of JOHNNY NOTHING that somehow makes it all worthwhile
• Playing AVE MARIA on the guitar
• Making kids at school laugh by forcing them at gunpoint to listen to me reading JOHNNY NOTHING
• Playing STRANGER ON THE SHORE in tribute to Acker Bilk
• A cute film featuring my daughter SOFIA when she was a baby
• My WORDPRESS blog
• ABC TALES, a site that I occasionally contribute to