Tuesday, 25 October 2011

the return of the ramsay!

It seems ages since I last sat down to blog but I do have excuses of deadlines, builders and being short staffed at work. It was difficult to find time to sleep never mind write anything.

A strange highlight of the last few weeks was being underneath the table with a bearded collie called Buddy while appearing on the Fred MacAulay Show. I was talking about treating animals and trying to amuse the live audience as Buddy chewed happily on my shoes. He was a lovely dog, but he was wearing a red bandana. That to me is the same as a man who wears a bow tie as a fashion statement (never to be trusted). Any bandana wearing pooch or indeed, any pooch with a pink coat or dog wellies is a target for the wonderment that is Emily pit bull. She attacks them on sight with her little Mutley laugh. My dog is a type as named by Billy Connolly, it’s a ‘Wee Glasgow brown dog’... a strange looking short coated rather ugly animal that resembles a haggis with an obesity issue. These dogs, seen all over Glasgow, are commonly strutting about, leading a gang of reprobates. They walk as if they own the place and are rather good at upending wheelie bins. Their natural diet is chicken tikka and irn bru. Their personal hygiene is iffy in the extreme.

Buddy, resplendent in his red bandana, showed off his party trick on the radio- barking on command. My dog’s party trick is the summary slapping around of dogs wearing red bandanas.

After talking to Buddy under the table, I was treated to coffee by David hyphenated, I can never recall his proper name or his job title but he is something very important at BBC radio. He asked me to submit a few ideas but not crime or comedy he said. My heart sank as I thought, ‘why the .... are you asking me??’ But I did put in four ideas and there was one that he hated slightly less than he hated the other three so we will see what comes of that. Writing plays for radio is much more difficult than it seems.

The Jack the Ripper play is being ripped apart (pardon me!) by my co writers, book four is away at the printers, book five is cooking nicely and when I get to that point my brain halts in protest at having too much to do. I have also got a whole load of appearances and talks to do – some of them are quite grown up--- see above comment about crime and comedy --- I’m not that much good at philosophy beyond that Rab C Nesbitt Govan street philosophy. That I can understand but Kierkegaard and all these chappies seem to have a go at horses all the time... is it a horse isn’t it a horse.... mmmm. Is in conceptual horse. Is the horse there? Or merely in your conscious? Do these people have too much time on their hands? I’m appearing on a panel of forensics and philosophy. I do have a great book on ethics and forensics which I think I shall quote a lot and look clever.

Managed to make it back to weegie which, like,most literary events these days has turned into a bit of a moan fest about how bad publishing is . But they had good sandwiches and I had a great chat with my pal Brian about the best way to lock Cinderella is a cupboard and spoke to Phyllis who is venturing into e publishing, (I might have that wrong).

Had a bit of bad news... the lovely and quietly humorous John Lawton ( I think of him as the Bill Nighy of the crime writing world) will not be joining me at the Bristol Crimefest this year...as he is holed up in Italy with his cat, some red wine and a year’s worth of desert island discs. I read that as I was sitting with a duvet wrapped round me trying to maintain some kind of core temperature as the builders had all the doors open, it was snowing on the hills and the wonderdog was lying in front of the freezer in an attempt to heat up. The plasterer was practicing the high notes in Nessan Dorma, so I decided to ignore Mr Lawton for being a wee smarty.

Going now to practice chasing some dead people over the top of the Rest and Be Thankful and that is a major wellie and thermal underwear job. That’s a back to the car for a chip buttie and flask of cocka leekie soup job! Can’t do that in Italy Mr Lawton eh?