Granite Noir Day One (well, Two)

I didn't go to last night's event so here's today, the first full day (starting at noon). Drinks reception this evening, so trying to be coherent!

First event today was Deborah Masson and Heine Bakkeid, chaired by Stuart Cosgrove, an imposing man in a teeshirt over a large torso, tapering down to cuffed jeans, alarming trainers and no socks. This was particularly obvious as he jiggled his feet so much. That said, he was an excellent chair, bringing wit and intelligence to the conversation and neatly including the Local in the Limelight that kicked it off (an assured performance by UKCBC's Neil Lancaster). Hania Allen was also supposed to be on the panel but had come down with a bug, unfortunately. Deborah is Aberdeen's latest crime fiction writer, with Hold Your Tongue doing well - One Eye Open is apparently next. She received some teasing from the chair about her phone calls to doctors at Aberdeen Royal Infirmary concerning the effects of having your tongue cut out ... this could be why I have hesitated to read this book, but I now have a signed copy so had better get on with it!

The chair had the nerve to ask what I'm sure many want to know - is it possible to make a living from writing crime fiction? Heine reckoned it was a rule of thumb that in Norway twelve people at a time can do so, and he has just joined them. Deborah reckoned she was going to move to Norway, calculating that her advance would pay for baked beans for her family for a year.

I did want to talk to Deborah but the woman in front of me in the signing queue was one of those ones who continues their conversation with the authors when they're already signing your book, so I only managed a word or two (apparently she has a character called Lexie in the book and I'm guessing from her face that it doesn't end well), then contrived some Norwegian with Heine who has put something in my copy in Norwegian I haven't had the chance to look at yet!

In the authors' room I picked up my bag of goodies (books, a pen, and a buttery), then turned round and found myself facing Jackie Collins, Dr. Noir of Newcastle Noir fame. 'Jackie!' I said, taken by surprise at recognising anyone. She gave me a big hug, obviously under the impression that we'd met before, so we had a good chat about her trip from Newcastle and the distinctive flavour of Granite Noir - she's so kind! I also met Fiona Campbell and Harry Fisher, two other Locals.

In the second event I sat with a friend and some of her friends, too, who had been present at the University of the Third Age book group event I did last spring. This was Jackie's event, Newcastle Noir at Granite Noir, bringing a panel from that event to ours. Oddly, this was Icelandic writers whose work has not yet appeared in English (both are being translated by Quentin Bates, UKCBC member and excellent crime writer in his own right). Again we were missing one, Jonina Leosdottir, but we had Solveig Palsdottir and Oskar Guthmundsson. Oskar, very tall and prematurely white haired, is an optician in his day job - why did I find this a little disturbing? - while Solveig was an actress. She did look very familiar - my friend and I could not place her. Jackie kept a good conversation going including some readings in both Icelandic and English, and some interesting discussion of what it was like to set crime novels in a small community - advantages and disadvantages. The Local who started this event was Norma Beaton, a woman with over sixty published short stories under her belt but who told me afterwards that her novel was making very slow progress. I really admire people who can do a good short, and her tale of the death of a bus station manager was excellent!

I decided it would be a good idea to pick up a book by the other person (apart from Ambrose Parry) who will be in the panel I'm attached to on Sunday, so I found The Silent Companions by Laura Purcell, and after a chat with Lee Randall, who schedules us all and makes us feel welcome, I retreated to the bar and read for a bit.

Then it was time for the third panel. At it I met the lovely couple (whose names I still don't know) that I met last year who are such enthusiasts for Granite Noir and book themselves into the hotel opposite as soon as the dates are announced. It was very good to see them again! The panel concerned topical events and their effect on crime fiction, and was chaired not by the alarmingly energetic Fiona Stalker as advertised but by Kathryn Harkup, purveyor of poisoned high teas at other Granite Noir events. This was an intelligent conversation with Alice Feeney, Dorothy Koomson and Sarah Hilary about how current events influence their writing and are portrayed in it. This explored the emotional truths behind headlines, how fiction can examine feelings and ideas that journalism and other factual writing does not have the luxury to consider, the advantages and disadvantages of a long lead-in to a book’s appearance on the market when it deals with current events. I was slightly distracted by the man a few empty seats down from me who clenched and released his fist over and over during Fiona Campbell’s reading.

Then it was off to the civic reception. Last year this was clearly divided into ‘real authors’, ‘BBC Scotland types’ and ‘locals’ (writers, librarians, archivists and academics). This evening it was much more integrated – I had a chat with Lee Randall, then with Deborah Masson and her friends, then with Stuart McBride and Jackie Collins, then with Harry Fisher, John Bolland (poet, mostly) then with some academics, then with James Grieve, the pathologist, and his wife Nicola. Then we all mooched into the Music Hall to see, amazingly, Sara Paretsky being interviewed by Denise Mina. I mean, good heavens! She wrote her first V.I. Warshawski novel in 1982! And she’s still going strong – must read some more of them. Lesley, the amazing sign language interpreter, did this event as she has done Granite Noir before – how she keeps a relatively straight face is beyond me!

Right, better go into recovery now or I shan’t be in a fit state to do some running between the Lemon Tree and the library tomorrow – oof!