Reviewing the literary situation

Here is the first in an occasional series of reviews.


Bridget Harrison - Tabloid Love (Bantam, £6.99)

Bridget Harrison is fit, funny and feisty - unfortunately, she is in a city where those qualities are not admired by men.
Few people would have the guts to give up a good job, a fun social life and a lover they hoped to marry to move to almost the other side of the world.
Harrison did just that. She was 29 when decided to live out her fantasy as a reporter on the New York Post. She knew very few people in the country and had never actually worked as a reporter but that didn't deter her. One of her first outings was to a Pimps, Players, Playboys and Prostitutes party in Brooklyn where she copped off with a fellow guest despite her long-term boyfriend back in London. When Angus, the boyfriend, arrived for a visit, Harrison knew the magic had gone and soon she was alone, trying to snag a boyfriend in a city when there are half a million more eligible women than men.
She went on dozens of dates in her search for Mr Perfect with hilarious results. One told her that she could look good if only she would make the effort. Another told her he only dated women who smoked pot and liked dogs. A third handed her a breath mint. Harrison lay in bed with a fourth who insisted on ringing his friend so he could hear a British accent. Unsurprisingly, Harrison made her excuses and left.
On top of her reporting duties, Harrison was asked to write a dating column about her miserable love life for the paper's Sunday edition. Then she fell for her boss, Jack, and eventually they began an affair which she relayed in gory detail in her column, changing his name but the subterfuge fooled absolutely no one at work. At last, Harrison had found her man only to blow it through her own insecurities. Telling millions of readers the intimate details didn't help either.
Although there are tabloid tales: a restaurateur who had his head chopped off by one of his waiters, 9/11, and the sad story of an old man left widowed when his wife went out for a pizza on Christmas Eve and was killed in a hit and run accident, Tabloid Love is at its best and at its funniest when Harrison recalls her (many) dating disasters and complete inability to understand American men - or should that be men in general?






Thunderstruck - Erik Larson (Doubleday, £17.99)

One was an inventor, the other a north London dentist who murdered his showgirl wife and fled with his mistress. It would seem that little connected Marconi and Dr Crippen, except that Crippen was the first murderer to be caught by wireless telegraphy, the invention of Marconi. From this basic premise, author Larson weaves an unexpected but gripping tale. It's the story of two Edwardians and their passions - one for his invention, the other for his young girlfriend - but it is also the fascinating social history of a long gone age. The case is linked to another great murder - the man who caught Crippen was Walter Dew, who had been a detective on the unsolved Jack the Ripper murders.











Chart Throb - Ben Elton (Bantam, £17.99)


The blurb says: "Ben Elton, author of Popcorn and Dead Famous returns to blistering comic satire with a savagely hilarious deconstruction of the world of modern television talent shows". Up to a point Lord Copper. The novel is based around a "talent show" which isn't a real talent show because the makers fix it for the contestants who make good television.

There are three judges: Calvin Simms, who owns the show and appears on the American version; Rodney Root, the boyband manager and Beryl Blenheim, the earth mother with an irritating squeaky voice and a dysfunctional family. Now, what are the differences between that and The X Factor? Simon Cowell appears on the American version; Louis Walsh is a boyband manager; and Sharon Osbourne is the mother of an extremely dysfunctional family.

In the book Beryl throws and guess what - on television Osbourne throws water.

The host is Keely who is blonde and bubbly and on television Kate Thornton is blonde and bubbly.

There are some changes in the book: Beryl is a transsexual which obviously Osbourne isn't. Rodney Root sleeps with a female contestant which Walsh obviously didn't.

It is an entertaining read but "a savagely hilarious deconstruction of the world of modern television talent shows" it isn't.

A quizzical evening

Tuesday night and it was off to the inaugural Barnardo's charity ball. Organised by Rachel Richardson, the showbiz editor of the News of the World and hosted by Richard Bacon, it was held in the ballroom of the Riverbank Plaza on Albert Embankment.

Around 400 journalists and PRs turned up in various teams such as ITV, BBC, Channel 4, Turner Broadcasting, Talkback Thames, Sunday Mirror, Daily Star, thelondonpaper, Cosmopolitan, Cohn and Wolfe, Sky One, Henry's House and The Sun.

There were eight rounds of five questions and I was quietly confident I could produce a good showing.

Quietly confident that is until the questions started and I stared blankly around. Fortunately, my colleagues were equally blank.

One question was "Which actress admitted to taking cocaine in April last year?" KG said, "Jessie Wallace" but the TV and Film Editor confidently stated it was Claire King. A youthful member of the team, mishearing, said, "Yes Carole King." I said, "No, she didn't take cocaine she just said it would rain until September" and was met by a completely blank face. Oh, the perils of getting old.

Another question was: "Who is the odd one out: Caprice, Amy Winehouse or Elle McPherson?" This produced several answers: McPherson, the other two are Jewish; Winehouse, the other two have lingerie lines; McPherson, the others have released records; Winehouse, she is the only one who used to work for me, etc, etc. The answer written by Rachel was McPherson - she is the only one who has been in rehab.

In the end we came seventh and scored a creditable 26 out of a possible 40 and this is our team, minus me (camera-shy person that I am).

Wednesday night and it was back to my usual pub quiz night and we won beating off more than a dozen teams to score 57/60, a nine-point lead over the second team. Now, that's the way to do it...

The Minds of Women

I will never understand women if I live to be normal.

The free newspaper London Lite has a weekly column about dating. This week, it told the story of one girl who "fresh from dating hell" wanted to avoid men. So, she announced, she was going to a party where she could drink and flirt. Er, if she was off men who was she going to flirt with?

The boys duly appeared and she described them as "dressed to impress". Again, what does this actually mean? The one chap pictured had a plain white shirt, black shoes and jeans that were full of holes. Why is that impressive?

Where have all the anorexics gone?

The campaign du jour is to ban size zero models - those ultra-skinny women you see parading on the catwalk and in fashion magazines such as Vogue.

Size zero models are, it is said, a bad influence on society and women in particular because they encourage women to have a poor self image unless they are skinny.

A group of doctors from the Eating Disorders And Research Unit at King's College, London, say: "The fashion industry showcases models with extreme body shapes, and this is undoubtedly one of the factors leading to young girls developing disorders."

Is it?

Where are these thin women?

I work in London and I rarely see ultra-slim women in the streets - even in Kensington and Knightsbridge - slim, yes, but attractively slim. What I do see in London and on television shows featuring real people (Trisha and the like) rather than reel people (Love Island) is an ever increasing number of fatties.

Catwalk models are thin and unappealing. Victoria Beckham is thin and unappealing (pace Rebecca Loos).

Do women really want to look like them?

The Duchess of Windsor once remarked: "You can never be too rich or too thin" and Vicky B certainly seems to agree.

But the average man does not want ultra-skinny women - in a recent survey more straight men said they'd prefer to sleep with David Beckham rather than Vicky - and even if they did, outside of fashion shows where would they find them?

From my experience the size zero woman is a media myth - look around you, where have all the anorexics gone?

Now the government is paying to organise terrorism

There have been seven postal bombs in three weeks. Thankfully, no one has been killed but I was surprised to learn that there is apparently a policeman called Anton Setchell whose job title is national co-ordinator for domestic extremism.

With all the problems with terrorism - domestic and international - at the moment, I would have thought the last thing we need is someone on the government payroll to co-ordinate the whole shebang.

It's snow joke

I suppose it had to happen. There are few streets in London that now don't have a speed camera on them - even though research proves that they don't actually save lives.

Now in Italy speed cameras have been introduced on ski slopes. Yes, that's right ski slopes.

Police in Cortina D’Ampezzo and nearby Plose in the Dolomites will watch skiers on the cameras and alert colleagues at the end of runs if a skier is travelling too fast. Those caught could face fines of up to €1,000 (£650).

Cmdr Giuseppe Volpe, of the Italian Alpine Police training centre at Moena, said: "The cameras will help the piste police look out for wayward skiers and be able to stop them at the bottom and tell them how reckless they have been. If necessary, and if they feel life has been put at risk, they will also be able to fine skiers for infringements."

Infringements? That's an all-encompassing word.

How long before a British council fines a child for speeding on their Heeleys?

What's in a name?

What is it with companies and organisations that insist on changing their names for no good reason?

On 5 February 2007 the Eating Disorders Association changed its name to beat. Why? The name of the Eating Disorders Association is perfect - it does what it says on the tin. But beat? It makes it sounds like some throwback musical group. "We wanted to have a name that could be a message of hope as well as a call to action," said Sarah Ringwood, its chief executive. Where do they get these people?

British Steel - yep, I understand that one. It's a firm that is British and makes steel. Perfect. Corus? I know it changed its name after a merger but why not leave the British arm with the same name? What the hell does Corus mean?

In 2000 the Royal Mail became Consignia, but after public outcry only for two years but even so... What kind of idiot dreamed up Consignia and can I have his no doubt huge salary, please?