Alex Bell - fantasy author

Moose is generally a fairly lazy dog:

She doesn’t really get the concept of chasing frisbees or balls. But she really loves it when I blow bubbles for her. I have special doggy ones that are peach flavoured, and she runs around trying to catch them:

It’s a lot of fun, as long as I take a quick enough step back - otherwise Moose takes a flying leap at my face, and, well, she is much to big to fly at my face now. I’m apt to land flat on my back with a very anxious Dane slobbering on top of me. As I spend much of the day hunched over a keyboard somewhere, it’s quite nice to take a break from the writing sometimes and go have some bubble fun with Moose. There is, however, one drawback to this, and that’s that Moose has never had enough. So it doesn’t matter how long I play with her - as soon as I start to walk back towards the house she does her sad face:

What can I do? I’ll give her anything she wants when she looks at me like that. I’ve forced myself to go back into the house before, only to look out the window fifteen minutes later to find that she is still stood there with the same expression. This causes me to bang on the window like a crazy person, shouting ‘I’ll be right back, Moose!’, and then rush out with the bubbles, whereupon she starts leaping about all happy and joyful once again. Whoever said Danes were stupid? Mine has me wrapped around her little finger (or, at least, she would if she had a little finger).

Most of the things I love the most were introduced to me by my Dad: golden oldie films (starring James Stewart, Cary Grant et al), Steeleye Span, Billy Bunter, Siamese cats and Leonard Cohen, to name but a few. This is why I call him my Sam-I-Am. As anyone who is a Dr Seuss fan will know, Sam-I-Am is constantly trying to get the main character in Green Eggs and Ham to try the titular dish. After much resistance, he finally does try them at the end of the book only to discover that he loves them, and is eternally grateful to Sam for introducing them to him.

Anyway, my Dad recently recorded Blithe Spirit for us to watch, and this film now falls into that category:

It’s a strange, quirky little film about a writer (Rex Harrison) who hires a medium to conduct a séance at his home as part of his research for his latest book. He’s also hoping to expose her as a charlatan. But during the course of the séance, the ghost of his first wife turns up, and stays on even after the medium and guests have gone home. Rex Harrison’s character is the only one who can see her – she remains invisible to his second wife – which makes for some interesting scenes, and great little moments where he’s addressing his first wife’s ghost, but his second wife thinks he’s talking to her (the best example being Rex Harrison’s indignantly delivered ‘I could drink you under the table!’ which, to the second wife, seems a completely unprovoked, unnecessarily antagonistic remark).

It’s an odd film in many ways. The green ghost make up is weird, but weirdly effective. And Rex Harrison’s character is so laid back that he seems completely unaffected by his first wife’s death or, indeed, by the startling turn that events take later in the film. But it has stuck in my mind, and I think I might have to get it on DVD. There’s a sort of charm to these old films that many modern ones lack entirely. Perhaps it’s because they didn’t have the special effects in those days, so the script had to be bloody good to pull the film off. Harvey, for example, is a beautiful little masterpiece of a film with one of the best scripts ever (but that’s a blog post for another time).

Another reason Blithe Spirit is so good is down to Rex Harrison’s performance. I think I would watch any film that had him in it. In fact I love his voice so much that I think I could listen to him delivering a law lecture, and I’d still enjoy it. There’s something almost mesmerising about how good he is – sheer mastery, that’s what I call it. I have, of course, seen him before in such classics as My Fair Lady and Dr Dolittle, but I’ve never seen him looking so young. Or so sexy. I mean, the man practically oozes class, sophistication and intelligence:

And here’s the one screenshot from the film I’ve been able to find:

Look at the way he wears that suit! Could any other man carry it off like that? I think not. The photo doesn’t really do him justice though. There’s just something about the way he moves, and the effortless, stiff upper lip way in which he delivers the quips. It’s simply an absolutely flawless performance. And it’s a delightfully funny, charming, odd little film. They don’t make ‘em like this anymore.

There’s been a lot going on this week, which means I have not managed much writing. But I have enjoyed a rare burst of social activity that should keep my recluse metre topped up for the foreseeable future so that I can get some actual work done.

The Gollancz party on Thursday was splendid as always. I met (and re-met) Gavin Smith and Sam Sykes – new authors for next year who I expect to be deeply envious of some time soon. I had several people express their shock and horror at the fact that I love the Roadkill toys. People seem to think it’s out of character considering my vegetarianism and animal rights activism. And the more they go on about it, the more I start to feel a little bit shocked and horrified myself. Why am I so fond of my gory rabbit? Is there something dreadfully wrong with me? But mostly I just feel a vague sense of amusement that meat eaters can be uncomfortable with a squished soft toy that, actually, is not really dead, yet they don’t mind paying a butcher (or their supermarket) to chop off a cow’s head. Strange, eh? But – everyone’s shock and horror aside – the Gollancz party was a great bash, and I was tremendously pleased that the midnight train was the last one running rather than the usual half past ten.

The panel I took part in at the Havant Literary Festival yesterday was also a success. Fortunately, my hangover from the Gollancz party the night before had worn off by then. At least, I think it had. No one suggested to my face that I still looked hung over anyway. The panel was very well attended, and I was particularly pleased to see the lovely Neil C. Ford in the front row, especially as he had the foresight to bring a Lex Trent ARC – something that never occurred to me (possibly because of the hangover thing).

I believe I spoke relatively coherently, although I may have blanched a little when the moderator suggested we read aloud from our books. The whole concept of an author doing readings from their own books completely baffles me. This is, essentially, a form of acting. I could no more speak convincingly in Lex’s voice (or any of my characters) than I could get up and sing a piece of Italian opera. I am no actor. If I were forced to read aloud from one of my books, it would therefore probably come out as something of a dull monotone. I lack the theatrical flair. Writing it and speaking it are, after all, very different things. I’m always amazed that so many authors seem happy to do readings at conventions and other appearances. This is certainly not something I would ever voluntarily do. Fortunately Mr Ford, perceiving my discomfort, offered to read a section on my behalf, which let me nicely off the hook. And, indeed, he read it much better than I would have done. Henceforth, I shall refer to him as Lancelot, and expect him to accompany me on all and any events I may attend – just in case.

A big thanks to everyone else who made it to Havant last night, and an even bigger thanks to those of you who bought one of my books. Think of me again in February when Lex Trent versus The Gods will be out in all its fantastic, stupendous, awesome, breathtaking, shiny book glory.

I tried so hard to resist it, I really did. The astonishingly rapid growth of my gorgeous Great Dane has left me somewhat poverty stricken of recent weeks. Not only have I had to buy her a new collar, harness and safety belt recently (we’re onto extra large sizes now, people), but she has also killed some of her toys and started trying to eat the fluff inside them, which means they’ve had to be chucked and replaced with new ones. It is simply amazing how quickly a bill in the pet shop adds up. I have also spent a positively frightening amount of money on books recently.

So my plan was to cut back on all non-essential expenditure for a while. But after seeing the Roadkill Toys on Dragon’s Den last week, I have not been able to stop thinking about them. They are just so unbelievably cool – I want them all! I can’t afford to spend that much money buying the whole range but I have lost the battle with myself, and this morning I ordered Grind the Rabbit:

Is he not perfect? There’s blood and guts coming out, and a tyre track on his back, and a fluffy tail, and a crazy bloodshot eye – I mean, honestly, what’s not to love? Plus, he comes in a body bag with a toe tag! What an awesome, awesome little product.

I love everything about the website: http://www.roadkilltoys.com. And as I can see that they have new products coming, I’m going to have to try not to visit the site for a while because I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself. I can’t wait for Grind to arrive so that I can arrange him on my bed. He’ll probably give my Siamese a bit of a turn to begin with (she hates things like that), but I’m sure that Grind will soon fit right in with Suki, Moose and the rest of my gang. They are, after all, quite accustomed to the weird things I occasionally bring home.

Once again, I should have blogged about this ages ago, but I’ve only just realised that the Havant Literary Festival is, in fact, only one week away. How is this possible? It’s still the middle of June, surely? Not practically the end of September! Well, at least that means Christmas is closer. Yay! Christmas is a time for silly hats, and I might have to convince Moose to wear a Santa hat so that we will match!

But back on topic. Next week from Friday 25th September until Sunday 4th October is the Havant Literary Festival: http://havantlitfest.wordpress.com/ I was involved in this last year, and it was a lot of fun and a fantastic event. This year I will be doing a panel at 7.45pm on Friday called ‘The Journey through Adolescence’, with authors Isabel Ashdown and Yong Pease. We will be talking about ‘the special challenges of writing for and about teenagers’. Tickets are £4.00 each: http://havantlitfest.wordpress.com/programme/programme-_-friday-25th-september/ If you are anywhere near my neck of the woods and fancy watching me speak eloquently and eruditely on this subject (or perhaps just making up stuff that may, or may not, be coherent) then do come along. There will be books available to buy and have signed afterwards.

Aside from my panel there is a whole bunch of stuff going on in Havant over that weekend, with a wide selection of writers so if you’re even remotely interested in reading, writing, or just books in general, and you’re within a manageable distance of Havant, then I would highly recommend going along at some point. It was a brilliant event last year, and it looks set to be even bigger and better this year.