'Do You Write Under Your Own Name?'

Thirty-five years have passed since Ridley Scott's film Thelma and Louise was first released, to much acclaim. On first viewing, decades ago, I was very impressed, but I decided to take another look at it, to see if I liked it as much after so much water has flowed under the bridge. And if ever a film set in the 90s has stood the test of time, it's Thelma and Louise.

You could call this a feminist film, a buddy movie, a crime film, a revenge thriller, or a black comedy; none of these labels are wrong, but none of them is broad enough to encompass the full range of Callie Khouri's impressive screenplay. There are some very dark moments indeed, but there's also a lot of variety, peaks and troughs of action and emotion. All as impressive today, in my opinion, as they were at the time.

Thelma (Geena Davis) is a beautiful but unsophisticated woman married to a carpet salesman who doesn't value her. Her pal Louise (Susan Sarandon) is a feisty waitress who has encouraged her to go on a vacation as a means of escape from their unsatisfactory lives. When Thelma's naivete gets her into trouble, Louise's temper flares up with disastrous results.

From then on, the pair are fleeing, not just from the police but from the lives they knew. They find a kind of liberation together, but it comes at a huge cost. I admire the way the script charts the evolution of their relationship and the film has one of the great, iconic endings, right up there with favourites of mine like those in movies like Don't Look Now and The Long Good Friday. Harvey Keitel plays a sympathetic cop effectively (it's not true, I think, to say that this film is anti-men) and Michael Madsen and Brad Pitt also have key roles. They are all very good, but the film belongs to the two leads. And to Scott, who is such a fine director.

 

Alone is an American film, shot in rural Oregon, which is apparently a remake of an earlier Swedish film called Gone; both movies are scripted by Mattias Olsson, but certainly Alone is minimalist in its approach to dialogue and is very heavily dependent on the two lead actors. Fortunately, Jules Willcox is outstanding in the role of Jessica, a troubled woman menaced by a psychopath played by Marc Menchaca, and her performance elevates this movie from the routine same-old, same-old into something rather more compelling.

At the start of the film, Jessica is relocating from her home in Portland. She is in touch with her parents but has a difficult relationship with her mother and it's not clear what is going on or what her plans are. She has loaded her possessions into a trailer which she drives along the endless quiet roads - until a driver of a black jeep starts to behave disturbingly.

She has more than one encounter with the driver (Menchaca) and it's clear that there's something creepy about him, even though he purports to be friendly. The tension builds as Jessica resists his initial attempts to establish some kind of connection with her. But he refuses to let go...

I won't say much more about the plot, even though its development is not exactly unexpected. Films about psychos do tend to have a certain familiarity. But graphic violence is avoided for most of the film; the suspense develops as much by implication and suggestion, and Jules Willcox's acting enables her to convey a formidable range of emotions even when she doesn't say a word. Alone is worth watching for her acting...alone.

I was saddened to learn recently, from his widow Jane, that David Roberts died on 18 December. The news came as a particular shock as I'd very much enjoyed David's company at a Detection Club dinner at the Langham Hotel on 7 November. He was in excellent form that night, even though he'd not been in the best of health, and he wrote to me after the dinner to say how much he'd enjoyed the evening. I was looking forward to seeing him again this year.

David had a distinguished career in publishing lasting over thirty years - he ultimately became an editorial director - before he turned to writing detective fiction. Sweet Poison (2001) introduced Lord Edward Corinth and Verity Browne, and the book, set in the 1930s, reflected his love of Golden Age fiction. Sweet Sorrow (2009) was the tenth and last in the series.

I knew David mainly through the Detection Club rather than the CWA, and he kindly contributed twice to Club books that I edited. 'Unfinished Business' is a story which appears in Motives for Murder, our tribute to Peter Lovesey on his 80th birthday and David paid homage by writing a nice tale about Peter's first detective, Sergeant Cribb. As far as I know, this story was David's last piece of published crime fiction.

When I invited David to contribute to Howdunit, our book about the art and graft of crime writing, he wrote an incisive piece about the changing face of publishing. He was ideally qualified to write it, of course.

From time to time, he'd drop me a nice email about books like The Golden Age of Murder or the British Library Crime Classics and it was always nice to talk to him. He was a charming and popular man, and I'm so sorry that he's gone.

Sometimes, one can own a book for a very long time before getting round to reading it. Well I can, anyway. It's not a habit I'm proud of, but it feels more or less inevitable, since although I read a lot of books each year, I acquire even more. This is my excuse for not reading John Bowen's The Precious Gift since I acquired the paperback edition in 1993 - alas, it was a review copy that I didn't have time to review. My mistake...

John Bowen was a novelist and playwright, but possibly best known as a TV scriptwriter (not to be confused, by the way, with T.R. Bowen). Among many other credits, he wrote for Wilde Alliance and co-created Hetty Wainthropp Investigates. The Precious Gift first appeared in 1992 and bears laudatory quotes from Ruth Rendell and P.D. James, neither of whom scattered praise around lightly. So why I took so long to read it, I really can't explain.

I'm so glad I finally did read this novel. The writing is excellent, with an undercurrent throughout of dry wit. It's interesting for several reasons, and especially because he chose as a protagonist a young woman with a small baby. Risky, but I think he succeeds admirably in capturing the character and lifestyle of Sarah Arnott, a stubborn yet likeable woman whose life changes forever after the discovery of a skeleton in the grounds of the house she shares with her husband Simon.

The skeleton is of a youngish woman who was pregnant and who must have been dead for more than forty years. It's clear she was murdered and buried to hide evidence of the crime. Sarah becomes obsessed with trying to find out who she was and what happened to her, taking her lead from detectives in Crime Club novels (these references supply part of the fun). One might quibble that the motive for the crime, when eventually uncovered, is a bit far-fetched, but no matter. This really is a very good story, which had me gripped from start to finish.   

The Leopold and Loeb case dates back just over a century, to 1924, but it has an enduring fascination for anyone interested in criminology. The idea of 'murder for experiment' is chilling in the extreme, I think. No wonder the case supplied the raw material for Patrick Hamilton's play Rope, which was expertly filmed by Alfred Hitchcock, and Meyer Levin's Compulsion, also made into a good film. And there's much more stuff out there inspired, in one way or another, by Leopold and Loeb's misadventure in crime.

Including Murder by Numbers, which stars Sandra Bullock, an actor who is appealing in a wide range of roles. Here she plays Detective Cassie Mayweather, a woman with a troubled past, who is assigned to investigate along with a new partner, played by Ben Chaplin in a role which demonstrates his versatility - so very, very different from Dorian Gray!

The high school classmates who are - very loosely - based on Leopold and Loeb are Richard Heywood and Justin Pendleton, who are played by Ryan Gosling and Michael Pitt, both of whom do well to humanise two unappetising individuals. Agnes Bruckner plays a pretty girl whom Justin idolises and Richard seduces. 

Tony Gayton's script is competent, but the storyline follows a fairly predictable course, and I felt that the excellent cast might have been better utilised if there had been something more unexpected about the plot. As it is, it's a well-made film that is worth watching but does not offer any fresh insights into why perfectly respectable people might be attracted to the idea of killing a randomly chosen, entirely innocent victim. And that is, sad to say, such a common phenomenon that the more we understand about it, perhaps the better the chance that society will be able to nip some of these terrible crimes in the bud.

Like most people, I have lots of gaps in my cultural knowledge and whenever I can, I try to fill one or two of them. This explains why I've now got round, for the very first time, to watching the original movie of Planet of the Apes, which dates from 1968. (You might say that there's nothing very cultural about this particular film, but I can't agree.) Astonishingly, the film has something in common with the utterly different The Bridge on the River Kwai - both were based on novels by the French writer Pierre Boulle. 

I've never read either novel, but it's impressive that someone could come up with two such distinct, yet memorable storylines. Apparently the screenplay of Planet of the Apes, by Michael Wilson and Rod Serling, is very different from the original book, but even so. The film has some ludicrous elements, but it also makes some telling social points, which are still highly relevant today.

The premise is simple. Three astronauts wake from deep hibernation after a long journey through space that has taken them far into the future. A fourth colleague, a woman, doesn't survive the trip, and her corpse is very badly aged. When they crash-land on an unfamiliar planet, they don't know where they are - and their space craft sinks into a lake, so they are stranded. The planet seems barren, but they find traces of vegetation and soon it becomes clear that there is indeed life to be found. First, the visitors encounter a group of mute humans. And then they come across the masters of the planet, who are (as of course we've been led to expect) apes.

Charlton Heston is ideal for the lead role of Taylor, a tough-minded astronaut who is determined to resist his captors. Roddy McDowall and Kim Hunter are sympathetic chimpanzees, who are devoted to science, whereas Dr Zaius is hostile - and, Taylor starts to think, this is because he knows more about the planet's history than he is prepared to admit. Zaius, incidentally, was played by Maurice Evans, a British actor who made a notable contribution to pop music history by encouraging Hal David to get involved with entertainment during the Second World War.

The twist ending in the film is famous, and deservedly so. I can see why this film was so popular, and why it spawned a media franchise. I enjoyed watching it.  

D.M. Devine's Devil at Your Elbow, originally published by Collins Crime Club in 1966, was his fifth novel. The setting is a redbrick university, and the authenticity of the background owes a great deal to the fact that Devine worked at the University of St Andrews as a senior administrator. Although Hardgate University in the novel appears to be located in the north of England, the use of the Scottish spelling of the term 'bedell' rather than 'beadle' hints at Devine's Scottish background. (In another of his English-set books, similarly, he uses terms like 'whin' rather than 'gorse' and 'dux' for top of the form. I imagine what he was trying to do was to make clear that he wasn't writing about people and places that he knew).  

The story begins with a chess match played between two members of staff, the unpopular Dr Haxton (who is rumoured to have embezzled funds from the summer school) and young Peter Bream, who lectures in maths. Peter's fiancee, the glamorous (but mysterious) Lucille Provan, is a prime mover in the attempt to remove Haxton from his post. Haxton wants Peter's help to find out about the case against him, but Peter is unwilling to get involved and Lucille tells him that the case against Haxton is strong.

We are quickly introduced to various other key figures at Hardgate, including the Bursar, Ivor Matthews, Professor Edgar Simmonds, Graham Loudon, the Dean of Law, and Errol Humphreys, the Registrar. Some of them clearly have an axe to grind against Haxton. We also meet Karen Westall, who was going out with Peter until she made the mistake of introducing him to Lucille. She is still living in the same cottage as Lucille and remains on friendly terms with Peter. As for Peter, he is charming but rather weak, and has spent much of his life in the shadow of his deceased father, who was a professor at the same university. Peter isn't of the same calibre, and he knows it.

An attack on Karen is a prelude to a tragedy. Haxton is found dead and the inquest returns a verdict of accidental death. But was it? Gradually it becomes clear that old sins cast long shadows. The notoriously picky Kirkus Reviews said that this book is 'as intricate and intelligent as its main cast of characters' and this judgement is spot on. The technical storytelling skill with which Devine diverts suspicion away from the guilty part is really impressive.    

A quick note to wish all readers of this blog a very happy and healthy 2026. Over the coming months, all being well, I plan to continue writing posts in the same way as in the past. So tomorrow, for instance, will see the first Forgotten Book of the year - and it's a good one.  

During the past year I experimented with a monthly newsletter on Substack. I've been very pleased with the response to this and I aim to continue with it. I've also been receiving various extremely interesting suggestions about a paid-for newsletter (which would be in addition to, not instead of, the blog and the free newsletter). So it's likely that I shall progress that idea soon. And I welcome any ideas you may have about what you'd like to see in it. The only merit of a paid-for newsletter, I think, is if it offers value for the subscription, so the more I can tailor the contents (and extras) to what readers want, the better.

Looking further ahead, this year should see publication of the new Rachel Savernake novel in September, and four anthologies: I'm especially excited about one of these collections, and will say more about it soon. I'm also involved with the British Library on two major projects which will come to fruition this year: again, more news soon. The Crime Classics will continue to appear on a monthly basis and we have some great titles lined up for 2026.

So whatever the weather, whatever troubling things are going on in the world, there are always things to be positive about. I'm entering the new year in good heart - and I hope you are, too.  

I spent time with a great many lovely people in 2025. Too many to mention in this post, for sure. There have been lots of happy times, but I've also lost a number of especially dear friends and it wouldn't be right not to start by mentioning them. The top photo shows Peter Lovesey (and his beloved wife Jax) when I visited them back in 2023. I didn't say so then, but I knew at the time that Peter had been given a terminal cancer diagnosis. He was, however, in fine form and he continued to write until the end. I saw him this year, a few days before his death, and it was an emotional occasion for both of us. A great man and a terrific writer. What a marvellous legacy he has left.

Eileen Dewhurst, as I wrote the other day, died earlier this month. She played a big part in my life, in a totally different way from Peter, and I have many fond memories of her. Ann Granger, who also died this year, was another lovely person as well as a good writer. And I heard, just before writing this post, that David Roberts, whom I saw at a Detection Club dinner as recently as last month, has also died.

Eileen lived to the age of 95, a particularly good innings, but my old friend Elizabeth Roberts (above), who was an avid reader of crime fiction, died far too young due to a very aggressive form of breast cancer. Her death came as such a shock that I haven't felt ready to write about it, but I would like to write a tribute to her and this is a project for the new year.

This year, we celebrated 25 years of Murder Squad, before agreeing that it was time for us to call it a day as a collective. But we'll be getting together on an individual basis from time to time, you can be sure of that. And that quarter-century of collaboration has yielded many fantastic memories - and quite a few really good books under the Squad banner.

Special mention for some great holiday companions. Steve and Shelly Karol were great fun to be with at Alibis in the Archive and then at Castle Skibo - we're with them in the above photo (and it has to be said that the others were all better archers than me). Kate Ellis and Roger Bullock, by no means for the first time, were also great companions on our Viking cruise - the above photo shows us celebrating a victory in a shipboard quiz...

There were several performances of my murder mysteries this year, and two of the casts are seen above. It is always interesting to see how the same script can be interpreted differently and I never tire of enjoying these performances.

Two photos from Alibis in the Archive are above (and next year's event will take place from 5-7 June, so do book early!) Each year I programme a different line-up of speakers and each year I'm delighted by how entertaining they all are.

 

It's been a busy year, and one of the reasons is that, quite apart from doing a lot of writing, I've also had the chance to get around the world. In fact, in 2025 I had not one but two 'holidays of a lifetime', which were very different from each other in every way, but both exhilarating.

A long trip to New Zealand was enhanced by the decision to break the journey both in and out in Singapore. I didn't quite know what to expect of Singapore, but I thought it was terrific - everything from the cleanliness and friendliness of the local people, to the light displays at night at the marina and afternoon tea in the Raffles Hotel, sampling the cakes while a harpist played Burt Bacharach. And I did enjoy sampling a Singapore Sling.

New Zealand itself was wonderful, and it's hard to pick out highlights. The hot springs at Rotorua, a Maori feast, a trip to Milford Sound, visiting a glow worm cave and meeting an Edgar at the Ngaio Marsh House at Christchurch - I could go on and on, but I'll try not to. A great country.

Six nights in Castle Skibo, north of Inverness, made for a contrasting experience but one that will live long in the memory. This trip owed so much to the kindness of Shelly Dickson Carr and her husband Steve Karol, who proved to be great company. We flew up there in a private plane, which was a first for me, and the start of a magical break. The castle was amazing, the lifestyle there luxurious. And there were some lovely trips, for instance a pilgrimage to Anne Perry's former house at Portmahomack and another to Castle Dunrobin (above photo).

You wait ages to go back to Bordeaux, then two trips come up in the space of a few months. I sailed from there with Seabourn as a guest speaker, also visiting La Rochelle and St Helier before docking at Portsmouth. Later in the year came a wine cruise with Kate Ellis and her husband Roger, visiting some lovely little towns such as Cadillac.

Much as I enjoy foreign travel, I love exploring Britain. In addition to the Skibo trip, I spent a few days in south west Scotland staying with my old friend Stephen in Monreith and fitting in an enjoyable evening talking books in Wigtown. I've written a short story, 'The Scares', which emerged from this trip (the Scares are rocks off the coast of the Mull of Galloway) and this will appear in print next year.

The first festival of the year was at the Lansdowne Club in Mayfair (where I'm returning in January) and it was fun to work again with Andrew Taylor over the weekend. There were plenty of other great festivals, too many to mention here, including trips to Henley and the Isle of Wight as well as an enjoyable tour of Cumbria that I combined with three murder mystery events in libraries at Penrith, Barrow and Kendal; other library visits included Bromley House in Nottingham, Warrington, Stockton Heath, Frodsham, Halifax, and Upton. Murder Squad's 25th anniversary celebration at Stockport Guildhall was a grand occasion, and I also enjoyed launching Miss Winter in the Library with a Knife at Serenity Books in Romiley as well as a great weekend in Sedbergh, taking part in Death in the Dales, Newcastle Noir, and the very last (unfortunately) CrimeFest in Bristol.

Finally, two occasions in Wales. First, Alibis in the Archive at Gladstone's Library, where Shelly and others, including Christina Koning, Alex Pavesi, and Paul Charles, were excellent speakers. And not long after that, a special birthday-related holiday in Aberdyfi in mid-Wales that was blessed with lovely weather. All in all, I was very fortunate in 2025.