Notes from David McGill

Launch high, media low

2009-07-27T16:22:00.001+12:00

Beattie's Book Blog is a wonderful pipe opener for my recent books, and his promo for my launch of 'The G'Day Country Redux' enjoyed my favourite headline: 'NZ's Most Irrepressible Author/Publisher Strikes Again'. The day of the launch was wet, windy and freezing, enough to strike me down with dread on two counts: firstly, nobody would come to the notoriously draughty old Paekakariki Railway Station Museum; secondly, what the weather might inflict on my nethers under the McGill tartan. I need not have worried on either score, with a grand crowd jammed into the old tearooms end of the station museum. As I wobbled on to a curved and spindly chair to speak, I realised Mayor Jenny Rowan was sitting on the floor next to the wind-whistling door. I struggled upright and donated a railway cup and saucer, the genuine old thick articles, to the museum, my thanks for the venue, liberating me from having souvenired the cup and saucer at the first launch in 1985. My co-author Michael O'Leary read some of the witty poems that head each chapter of the revamped book, Mr Rails Bob Stott talked about the boot hill of old engines and riding the last ever guard's van, Wayne Mason sang his song about retired engine driver Fred Hamer from atop the same wobbly chair, which he reckoned was the smallest stage he had ever been on. I reminded folk that Bob Stott's wonderful model railway recreation of 1950s central North Island timber towns was now on display at Taupo Museum. Mayor Jenny, by which time I had secured another wobbly chair for, stood to launch the book and tea and ham sandwiches and wine were served.

That is the good news. Then came the increasingly difficult task of attracting the media's attention. Thank goodness Bryan Crump loves trains and gave me a good stint on his National Programme night slot. The ends of the country are responding with the Greymouth Star and Southland Times reviews and Northern Advocate promising, but the big print media guns double yawned at another McGill begging book bowl and dreary old trains. Funny that Time magazine has recently had enthusiastic spreads on the $200 billion Europe is spending on train challenges to airlines and Obama's $8 billion on rapid rail initiatives. NZ meantime is planning more rail closures and not using our resources -- the public's resources, like allowing more holiday and weekend excursions. Michael O'Leary and myself have been lobbying the politicians to get those mothballed railcars back for The Southerner Christchurch to Invercargill, the best train trip in the country if it was restored, the Wellington to Gisborne and New Plymouth lines, the Stratford to Taumarunui. All are featured in my revived book, by guard's van, and also a comparison of the 1985 Silver Fern with The Overlander. And for good measure, there are over 100 pictures of rail then and now.

To me rail is the most agreeable way to travel, and the journey in this new edition with Michael on the Overlander to Auckland and back I hope proves my case made in the 1985 chapters is still so. I have travelled by train across America and Europe between the two editions, and some of Australia, but nowhere has more to look at than our own fair land. The proof I assure you is in the reading of this book. If only I could get more media attention, I am sure many would want to check out my claim. But, these gatekeepers of public information are indifferent to anything on the slow side, they want P stories and boy racer stories, they are as hyped up as their subjects, thrill junkies once removed, voyeurs of others' misfortunes. May they be stuck in their souped-up cars in eternal traffic jams that we wave to as we pass on the railcars. Remember that a few central North Island folk won a reprieve for the Overlander, and now it rocks. Check it out. Stress-free travel watching the world go by -- in the case of cars, often the reverse, they watch you go by. Rail on!

Full steam ahead

2009-06-24T13:45:00.006+12:00

The G'Day Country Redux Launch as it appeared on Beattie's Magnificent Book Blog

Author offers advice to Minister of Tourism
by our reporter at the launch

On a freezing southerly last Saturday 50 brave souls came from the south, which was probably a respite, and as far north as Auckland for the launch at Paekakariki Railway Station Musuem of the revamped book of a rail journey around New Zealand, 'The G'Day Country Redux'.
Block cake, ham sandwiches and asparagus rolls were washed down with wine and cafe drinks in the original railway tearooms.
The author dressed up in his McGill tartan is seen striding down the museum and presenting an NZR cup and saucer to the museum secretary Christine Johnson. The cup is from NZR's last-ever crate of these Crown Lynn collectables, which was made available at the launch of the original 1985 publication in the Wellington Railway Station.

The crowd was warmed up by New Zealand's top singer/songwriter Wayne Mason of 'Nature' fame. Wayne sang his recent composition 'What Fred Said' in honour of Fred Hamer, who marked the end of 53 years on the railways by driving the train featured on the cover of the new edition, the Parliamentary Special steam train centenary North Island Main Trunk Line trip from Wellington to Auckland last year.

McGill noted that none of the half-dozen politicians who got photo opportunities on that trip whom he invited to the launch were able to attend. He said this was no surprise, given they have maintained the swingeing and totally unncessary charge of $30,000 for passenger train excursions. The result of this he said was that there was a threat this month to close and rip up the rails from Napier to Gisborne, when Mainline Steam says it would do regular trips without this tax on a journey that rivals Tranz Alpine for scenic splendour. McGill advised the Minister of Tourism John Key to check out the numbers of overseas visitors who come here expecting train journeys through our magnificent country, and find there is a partial and truncated Main Trunk Line, missing the best passenger train journey in the country, if not the Southern Hemisphere, namely the old Southerner from Christchurch to Invercargill. You'll have to read my book, he said, to be reminded what that trip was like, the incredible vistas coming in to Dunedin as opposed to the dire concrete motorway canyon.

The revived Overlander trip from Wellington to Auckland was made by the author and his colleague Michael O'Leary as an introduction to the new edition, to prove how pleasant and stress-free train journeys can be as an alternative to traffic-clogged roads. In his speech he suggests the Minister of Tourism might also in his other job note that one of President Obama's first initiatives was to direct $8 billion to rapid rail transit to be built along mortorways, while the French, Italians, Germans and Spanish are spending $200 billion over the next 10 years to treble their rail capacity for high-speed trains. Australia is also expanding rail. Only New Zealand's 'doliticians', he said, are irresponsibly letting a major rail resource and alternative transport system slip away.

He concluded by reading out a letter he received from ex-guard and present Auckland train driver Isaace Broome after sighting the announcement of the launch in Beattie's Book Blog. Mr Broome provides a comprehensive time table for reintroducing passenger trains from Britomart to the tourist and holiday spots of Rotorua, Tauranga, Taupo, Bay of Islands and Napier, Wellington to Gisborne and Christchurch to Dunedin, particularly at the weekends when our Kiwi Rail capacity lies idle. This would utilise our publicly funded rail network and undoubtedly save casualties on our congested roads. People would get back to work refreshed. The old Silver Fern railcars could be brought back at little cost.
Surely this is a no-brainer! Yet the Ministers of Tourism and Transport press on with incredibly expensive cycle ways, whilst ignoring the likes of the Taieri Gorge railway that gets the cyclists to the ways. Hence doliticians.

McGill suggests if you want to know what is so pleasant about rail you could do worse than invest in his book, which in the new edition has more than 100 images of the wonderful sights you never see from a car. You could even lend a hand by sending the book to your local MP, who flies above all this and takes a car from the airport and is plain unaware of our magnificent and comprehensive rail network. Those pollies, he reckons, need a shunt!
Check the book out at your bookstore. If they don't have it, get them to order it, or get it direct from the publisher on his website.
Posted by Bookman Beattie at 2:00 PM 0 comments Links to this post

Train Ride -- Enter Me

2009-06-02T11:55:00.002+12:00

Remember Wayne Mason's wonderful Nature, enter Me? Of course you do. Voted New Zealand's greatest ever song. What this has to do with me? Well, Wayne has graciously agreed to perform at the launch of my new book 'The G'Day Country Redux' his composition 'What Fred Said'. Fred Hamer retired from 53 years on the railways. My book is a celebration of a rail journey round New Zealand in the company of folk like Fred, the guards and engine drivers in 1985, and today with fellow Railways devotee and Paekakariki resident Michael O'Leary, who worked on the railways with likes of his old mate Hone Tuwhare, and has written railway poems for each chapter from Okaihau to Invercargill. The preface to the book is Michael and I taking the Overlander to hometown Auckland and comparing it with my 1985 Silver Fern trip. On the cover is engine 1271, which was Fred's last ride as engine driver last year.So come along to the launch and hear Wayne sing of Fred and 'Rails' magazine editor Bob Stott talk about 'The Boot Hill of Old Train Engines'. It is 3pm Saturday June 20 at Paekakariki Railway Station museum. Traditional refreshments. Toot, toot.

The Bun Launch

2008-11-26T15:56:00.000+13:00

Beattie's Book Blog has done me proud, not only generously reviewing the book but running an extensive blog on the launch at Turnbull House, including three images of people eating and talking and enduring me talking. Guest speaker the food writer David Burton was amusing on the way we used to eat, at the Jolly Frog in Wellington and Hi Diddle Griddle in Auckland. If you want to know what he said, what I said, who was there, what food was on offer, check out Beattie's Blog or email me for the full blog.

The Communion of the Easter Bun-Rabbit

2008-11-13T16:21:00.002+13:00

Several already cannot come to the launch at Turnbull House, Saturday, 22 November, 3pm. Fiona Kidman is in Vietnam, Kathie Webber is trying to save the Buckinghamshire Library, Roger Hall is climbing the Pyramids, Galya and Bob Brockie are in Oz, Euan McQueen is in the Wairarapa, Katherine Lissienko is hosting her lad’s birthday in Auckland, Chris Finlayson is in Kaikoura, my dear brother John is in Fiji. Others may be recuperating from a new virus -- Kiwi culinary history exhaustion. I didn’t know when I started this book that I was to be the sixth cab off the Kiwi culinary heritage rank this year. Tony Simpson has reprinted his awesome A Distant Feast, Alexa Johnston Ladies, A Plate, Kate Fraser’s Cooking Times, Helen Leach The Pavlova Story, and David Veart First Catch Your Weka. I do offer a point of difference a friend identified – I offer a lot more recipes than most of the others. There is also sometimes an advantage in being last cab off the rank. Look at the Maori Party! Sorry, Helen, I miss you too.

Anyway, the other point of difference is that my book is primarily a celebration of food and loved ones, most notably my brother Michael, my oldest and dearest friend, who cannot be with us because he is not well. My formative bread making years were shared with him, and of course our Mum’s overwhelming provisioning, the subject of the first chapter, The Mum of Plenty Baking. Later Mike and I shared poker and peanuts, golf and beer barns, a Cab Sav McGill 76, even the kava he got a taste for in Fiji, where no doubt my youngest brother John is developing that taste right now.

Other celebrated folk are

Graham Kerr, whose leftovers I had access to courtesy of some lasses who lived in the same complex in the 60s

Fellow student flatters such as Win McLean and Roger Hall and Helen Faville

That wonderful Aussie actor Kenneth J Warren, who introduced me to Tom Ugly’s Rice and Kangaroo Tail consommé

English cookery editor Kathie Webber, who educated me, to the degree I could manage, new experiences like snail and quail and suchlike

A wonderful Armenian nun in Bethlehem who taught me about food and love

Graham Cooper, who taught me about food and love too

Railway guards, who taught me where the best spots were for paua, rock oysters and figs, and inspired my professional dedication to Kiwiana (I claim first use of the word, in my first slang book, along with leather ladies and underground mutton – Harry Orsman loved those two)

Harry Seresin, godfather to my daughter and café culture godfather to the nation

The haggis and malt whisky guests, including the dear cover lady Dinah Priestley who revealed my Protestant relations and that bread-making was in her family, and also

Ikar Lissienko, who claimed he was asked to deliver the address to my hagii (thanks, Jeanie Douche for the plural of haggis) because he was Russian, whose family provide a slew of authentic Russian recipes

David Burton, whom I knew when he was the guy at the Evening Post who assisted the continuous overseas press reports off the wire and into the bin, who is now our leading food writer/historian, if Tony will allow me to say that based on David’s astonishing output, several columns a week (I know how hard that is) and books and his continued practising of his preaching.

Finally, my dear sister and other cousin Audrey on the other paternal side and also on the cover with Dinah and moi, who provided me with the critical books and attendant info that prove we are bakers on both sides of the family. Oh, yes, my daughter Kate took the cover photo. All in the family.

Mock Funeral Memorial

2008-10-29T15:38:00.002+13:00

Paul Madgwick is more than the handout kind of journalist so familiar these days. Not only has he handsomely reviewed my new novel The Mock Funeral, he has researched the life after the sedition trial of the priest Father Larkin and in the Hokitika Guardian newspaper for 20 October last has noted that the 'Manchester martyrs' that initiate my story have not only been remembered ever since in Ireland, but in the last few months the Irish parliament has had the long-held desire to bring their remains back from Manchester raised and the government has committed to 'bring home the patriots'. This is engaged journalism. Take note those metropolitans who tell me they have their Christmas books for review, like my story was of no consequence. Maybe I am paranoid, but I cannot help noticing that certain academic writers attract pages of plugs. Oh well, I cannot change my journalistic spots, nor would I wish to. I am proud to be in the company of the likes of Mark Twain, Ernest Hemingway, Charles Dickens, Norman Mailer and Paul Madgwick.

Mock launch with song and drum

2008-10-26T13:10:00.000+13:00

The Mock Funeral was launched 25 October at the National Irish Feis at Kapiti College with song and drum. Guest speaker, Paekakariki poet Michael O'Leary, enjoyed impromptu accompaniment from Phil O'Connell on bodhran, the amazing Irish finger drum, but not before the launch was held up while a hair dryer warmed the drum skin to finger tapping elasticity. Michael sang 'Skibbereen' and Phil then demonstrated the bodhran's range, his wooden knuckles employed on the skin as he sang an Irish song, then turning the drum on its side and beating the wooden skittle against the wooden surface, making the instrument its own orchestral accompaniment for his traditional singing. This was folk music at its most potent and primeval, foot-tapping good. I asked Phil what they did in the days before hair dryers. The obvious answer, an open fire warmed the skin. No peat fires available, so you adapt, eh? It looks like one of those crossed wooden trays you sift dirt in, and apparently that is what the instrument was adapted from, whatever was to hand in the 'dirt'poor Irish bogs. Phil of course has played his drum in the H Block and Armagh protest Irish band Ourselves Alone (Sinn Fein in Gaelic)for 30 years.He has even, he told me, played with the fellow from the Chieftains, whose DVD is an incredible bargain for $10 at the Warehouse. Slainthe!

Scuse me while I kiss the sky

2008-10-24T15:24:00.000+13:00

Yes, Stephen, Chris, Chris (two Chrises) and whoever
First Bob Jones in his column in the DomPost calmed me down from my rancour about the media ignoring me yet again, then watching DVD of Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock balanced things out. Voodoo Child an incredible 15 or so minutes segueing into the absolutely astonishing Star Spangled Banner delivered like an airborn attack on a Vietnamese village, totally virtuoso, and just about as savage as anything out of popular music. His body language seemed mild though, all that peace and rainbows stuff. What a guy! Not long after Woodstock I saw his last performance, which those of you who have read my Treadmill Tapes know about, but for the guy who has not, I was at Ronnie Scotts impromptu late at night, say midnight, after Eric Burdon and War, Jimi strolls on to empty stage, about three of us in the audience, does his thing, goes home and dies accidentally. I was a street away and read the headline at Shepherds Bush tube. I am so glad Buddha sticks were too strong for my tummy.
This is straying a little from my Irish NZ novel gig tomorrow, but I have to do something to get a response to my blogs. Maybe Jimi was a black Irishman, like Phil Lynott? After all, Shakespeare has been said by some Irish to be of that persuasion. Scuse me while I kiss the sky.

Irish launch date

2008-10-24T11:30:00.000+13:00

The launch of my Irish novel at Kapiti College is on Saturday 25 October, but my blog lists American date time, the day before in the case of my just listed blog about my ancestral Irish eyes smiling. My web consultant will be looking into this anomaly and aiming to change to real south Pacific time. American hegemony will not triumph!

Irish origins

2008-10-24T11:15:00.000+13:00

My Irish ancestral eyes are smiling, for in the course of launching my Irish West Coast goldfields 1868 era novel The Mock Funeral, I have been checking out my Irish ancestors. The results are on show at my launch tomorrow at the Kapiti College canteen at 4pm, in the Irish National Feis weekend there. While this may be merely personal history, it has some interesting wider public value. For instance, seeing for the first time the paybook of the drummer boy born in Ennis, County Clare, at my Paekakariki cousin Audrey's house, I realised why the Scots and Irish were so closely tied in my family and in our society. This lad of 12 or so was my great-grandfather, his father serving in the area, for there was no other work for a poor man in Scotland but to join the British army. The lad was bought out of the army for a harsh 20 pounds redemption and they came to New Zealand, where the father soon died and the 16-year-old became a baker, then mayor of Auckland. But wait, as Suzanne would say, there's more. He was the first mayor in chains to sire a child and his councillors in 1886 sang him a ditty. He responded with a 22-line variation on 'To Be or Not to Be' and then sang back to them. All this came from the newspapers via an Auckland cousin Bryan, aged 79, whom I will meet soon for first time. Between Audrey, Bryan and my father, and the prompting of this novel of the first major Irish impact on New Zealand, I discover the major impact of Irish on me -- I am half-Irish,not the quarter previously thought. This weekend there are genealogical seminars also at Kapiti, with Fair Go's Kevin Milne among those taking part. Who knows what folk will discover? It is truly exciting to discover a rich ancestral landscape. It does need elbow grease, and I am fortunate to have three major contributors and now I have joined their dots and invite you if you are in the area to come celebrate with a glass and a chat. Slainthe!

Blogging intent

2008-10-16T10:24:00.000+13:00

Hi Guys
I have been reeducated in blogging and will now try and keep them coming, after a lasped year. Usually I expend my thoughts in email responses, and I am concluding that some are worth blogging out to the world wide web. Take today. Two emails, from Graham Coe, National Library, and Fiona Kidman, writer. Neither can make it to launch of my Irish riots novel (see previous blog announcement of The Mock Funeral). Both are out of the rea, Graham in Germany. He wants to know if as a small publisher I would have any input into his report to NZ Government on the Frankfurt Book Fair. Do I what? Oh yes.
I think the NZ Govt could sponsor a booth or stall at the FBF and feature all us small publishers, demonstrating to the world the wealth of publishing in this ocuntry, currently unknown because of cost. I spent a small fortune on the New York Library book fair this year to feature one title, The Mock Funeral. My thinking was that all those Irish New Yorkers would respond to one of the main characters in the novel, the New York Irish editor who is tried for sedition here, after being tried for treason in Australia for provoking the Eureka Stockade incident. Potent stuff.
I could not afford any other displays of the book.
The response to Fiona was that I was enjoying very much her memoirs 'At the End of Darwin Road' because it is a powerful reminder of the male authority fascists we left behind when the feminist charge came in the 70s, Fiona prominent. She was a pioneer, putting up with headmaster, doctor, even shamefully a writer, and her own FEMALE library boss giving her a hard time for not being at home with the kids like a good suburban mum. Then there is the story about her husband a Maori being called a Spaniard by her relations. We had that dark rumour in our family of a Spanish relation. Bollocky nonsense. Fiona and my novel inspired me to check out my Irish connections and lo and behold, I am half Irish, not the quarter previously thought.This presetns a challenge to my Scottish emphaisis. I haev the McGill tartan, cost a pretty penny to be made into a kilt. What about the Irish? Well, at least I have written now twice about the Irish in NZ. The attraction of doing so I can now regard as an inherited disposition. I pursue that thought with my upcoming food memoirs, where I claim I am what I cook. More on that after the Irish noel is launched at the national Irish feis come Labour Weekend, at Kapiti College. Slainthe!

Mock Funeral

2008-10-10T16:26:00.000+13:00

I launch my fact-based novel 'The Mock Funeral' about the Irish Riots on the Goldfields of New Zealand in 1868, at the National Irish Feis or festival at Kapiti College canteen this Labour Weekend Saturday at 4pm. Come along if you are in the area and enjoy Irish dancing and singing and then the only drinks available (yes, we have permission to serve alcohol at the launch at the college). The novel follows the incendiary several months from the mock funeral, when around 1000 Irish iners amrched behind a priest and three coffins to commemorate the hanging of three Fenian patriots in Manchester the previous year, through the sectarian clashes on the goldfields and the sending in of troops by the new Governor Bowen, following death threats to himself and other officials, to the trial by the top New Zealand judge of the priest and editor of an Irish patriotic newspaper. In the midst of this turmoil two Anglo Irish agents are seeking to identify those planing the assassination of the Duke of Edinburgh, Queen Victoria's second son, due in Hokitika. The story is told from the perspective of a young journalist keen to make his name by immersing himself in the Irish goldfields community.

radio raves

2007-06-01T11:46:00.000+12:00

For the next few months I am adding to my Radio Live Sunday at 2.15 talks about extraordinary episodes in NZ history by talking about books on BeachFM, the Kapiti radio station, filling in for fellow Aperahama St resident book reviewer Ralph McAllister. I have already discussed the Kapiti Coast thriller, which enjoys a front window display at Coastlands Paperplus, and my bio of NZ's wittiest lawyer Roy Stacey, who successfully defended nine murder accused when the hangman beckoned, and any number of other defendants, such as Carmen when she claimed one in four MPs was homosexual and Muldoon sumonsed her before the most draconian court in the land, the Parliamentary Privileges Committee, such as as Roy's drinking buddy the poet Denis Glover on a rent arrears charge. Denis and Roy were both Christ College scholarship lads, both Lieutenant Commanders of corvettes in World War Two, both known for their sense of humour. In this case Denis coutersued for disturbance of his quiet enjoyment of the tenancy by subtenants trooping past the outdoor dunny. Between them Denis and Roy brought in Victorian doilies, Othello, Whistler and Ruskin, and after the conclusion of the case they all went for a beer at DeBretts, except Roy as usual had a gin, or more. Check me out Beach FMThursdays at 10.15am.

Chuck is out there!

2007-05-20T15:01:00.000+12:00

As you may know from my consatnt reminders, I talk about extraordinary moments in history on Graeme Hill's Radio Live show, Sundays at 2.15. This week we were talking about a Devonport mechanic inventing a death ray, maybe, before the First Labour Govt sacked him, end of 1935. Graeme was good enough to mention that I had just launched my thriller 'From My Cold, Dead Hands', a quote from Charlton Heston which ties in to story I have written about the dire repercussions of a masive oil strike off the coast of Northland, something that the Institute of Geological and Nuclear Sciences says is a matetr of when not if. My theme is based on the recent Times of London review of 'the age-old curse of oil' in Sudan, Russian, Iran etc. This time it is our turn. My maverick scientist Dr Ben Duffie is trying to warn the government of the apocalyptic implications of drilling into an area of volcanic activity such as off the coast of Northland. He is an expert on seismic indicators, but he is also worried about drilling triggering an undergound volcanic explosion where magma reacts with water, as it did in the cataclysmic Tarawera eruption. He predicts a tsunami that would sweep away Auckland. Are the government and the oil folk listening? Only to the extent of trying to shut up Dr Ben Duffie. Read on. Well, once you get the book from your bookshop or local library. If they don't have it, ask them. Charlton 'Chuck' Heston is prominent in the prologue, playing tennis in Wellington with Peter Snell. That is true. I saw them. 1966. The rest of the story is about now, with Chuck's words regarding his constitutional right to bear arms coming back to haunt the characters in my book.

Cold, Dead Hands Progress

2007-05-17T13:31:00.000+12:00

Hi, Readers
Last Tuesday upwards of 60 people, a packed house for the occasion, turned up at 7.30pm to the Friends of Kapiti Library occasion where I spoke for an hour about my new thriller 'From My Cold, Dead Hands' and the 37 other social histories I have written, some like this fictional.
It was nice so many forswore Coro St and Dancing with the Stars to venture forth from Wellington, Otaki, Waikanae, Paraparaumu and Paekakariki to listen to me rave on about my books. Some brought trays of finger food to add to what the hosts generously provided. Guru was there for the Kapiti Observer, a man with a family. Kay Blundell was out of town but we met up next day at Coastlands Paperplus to photograph the story board and talk about my Kiwi version of what the Times of London last Friday called 'the age-old curse of oil'. The venerable Thunderer was referring to Sudan, Russian, Iran, Iraq etc. My scenario is not so far-fetched, for the NZ Institute of Geological and Nuclear Sciences says a strike off Northland is a matter of when, and it is also concerned in the same press release about the lack of mapping of undersea volcanoes. There is in my book an oil strike off Northland and warnings of the dangers of drilling in the area from my main character, a geologist with expertise in seismic indicators of oil-bearing deposits. He is working for the Institute but is sacked and then his troubles really begin, as he is atatcked and pursued up and down the Kapiti Coast with only a few Climate Science sceptics as allies. His nephew is an accidental participant and narrates the yarn, refrring in the process to the Institute of Geeks and Nukes. That is my background of five Kiwi slang collections will out.

There is a BUT. Will the print media review the book? Not if my last 20 books are anything to go by. Is it me or them? They always say there are 400 other books clamouring for attention. So who would be a social historian, eh?

Request: Ask your local bookshop for the book.

My Cold, Dead Hands

2007-05-17T11:42:00.000+12:00

Hi Guys,

Tonight I launch at Paraparaumu Library on the Kapiti Coast of NZ my new thriller 'From My Cold, Dead Hands'. You probably recognsie the quote from Charlton Heston, holding a musket aloft in 2001 to defy Al Gore to restrict the NRA's constitutional right to bear arms. You may not know that Charlton came to NZ in 1966 to play tennis with rgeat NZ runner Peter Snell and lecture on movies. I saw and met the then top movie star in world, Oscar for 'Ben Hur' not long before. I interviewed him for a local magazine. The prologue to my thriller recreates that period when LBJ also came here a few months later druming up support for the Vietnam war. The thriller is set in the present day, with a local oil lobbyist still collecting Heston memorabilia after meeting him back then. NZ is on the verge of a major oil strike and the lobbyist is acting for a big international oil company. His cousin is a professor of geomorphology who has warned against the dangers of drilling into supposed dead submarine volcanoes. The lobbyist's son tells the story, caught in the middle of this eco pursuit thriller which follows the age-old curse of opil on a national and family level. Sudan of course is the latest casualty of finding oil, but think Russia, China, US, Iran, Iraq, Indonesia, anywhere that the oil find curse strikes. I hearby announce I have launched my first blog.