Ogmosis

Italian author Valerio Varesi has been a shining light in European crime fiction since the publication of his first book Latest news of a fugue in 1998, the Turin native switching seamlessly between his novels and his role as a journalist for the likes of la Repubblica.

His Commissario Soneri stories have been adapted into the TV series Nebbie e delitti , while he has also written historical-political novels collected in the volume Trilogia di una Repubblica .

His latest Soneri tale The Unseen has been translated into English by Joseph Farrell for UK audiences through Patrician Press and sees the Parma detective investigate an unsolved case of a dead body found in the Po River three years before.

Matthew Ogborn: Valerio, your evocative descriptions of the Po in The Unseen and previous tales are such a crucial part in the enjoyment of this series for me so how much research do you undertake to capture the unique atmosphere of the river and the quirky characters that live and work there?

Valerio Varesi: “Essentially this is based on my long observations of the river and my walks along its shores. I use the same method for the city of Parma and for the Apennines. In this way I incorporate these sensations which I then translate into images and put on paper. It's as if I photograph the scenery in my mind and record my impressions. As well as this, I talk to people at length. In the case of the Po, I visit sailing clubs and chat to the boatmen. I have made friends with the captain of a tourist ship sailing on the river. "

Much like Florida for Carl Hiaasen and Louisiana in James Lee Burke's Robicheaux novels, the setting serves as a character in itself. What is it that fascinates you about the Po?

“The river is a metaphor for life - 'everything flows' by Heraclitus. It also represents the power of nature: the mighty and apparently calm current concealing the mystery in the depths of its waters. The river which gives and takes away life. As in the presence of a great mountain or an endless sea horizon, we feel small and limited. We return to our mortal human nature in the face of what appears immortal. For this nature approaches the divine and represents it. "

You have a brilliant knack of making each character come alive in idiosyncratic ways, whether through offbeat description or natural dialogue. How important is that part of the writing process outside of the plot machinations and do you visit with people from all walks of life to nail it?

“Every writer is rather schizophrenic in the best sense of the word, namely that they know how to be someone other than themselves, identifying with their characters and experiencing different lives to their own. Writers steal other people's lives. Only in this way can I create credible characters. I often draw benefit from meeting people and observing them. In other cases I make use of widespread human typologies. This work is key because every storyline and every vision of the world needs characters to make them come alive. "

The Soneri books are also notable for the brutally honest descriptions of the passage of time and how it affects both Soneri and the people around him such as Angela. How cathartic is that for you and how does your background in philosophy influence the types of issues that you address?

“Soneri is a work in progress, he develops, he gets older, and he changes with time. Time is the most precious thing we are given and our life is a sort of countdown before the void. My commissario is conscious of this and is saddened by the passing of the years. He tries however to carry out his worldly tasks by him well as the stoics advised and, as Heidegger teaches us, he plans his life by him by being aware of death. Let's say that my studies have influenced his vision of reality - considering that Soneri is partly my alter ego. "

How important is it to you to receive recognition from the likes of international organizations such as The CWA here in the UK for your novels whether you are placed on a longlist, shortlist or win something outright?

“Very important, especially if recognition comes in the country with the most spoken language in the world and with top quality level of publishing. At times, in Italy, there is a feeling of living and writing in a restricted and provincial orbit. For me, being appreciated abroad is vital. I've also had good recognition and excellent sales in France. "

In these increasingly chaotic global times that we live in, what do you see as crime fiction's role both from the writer's perspective and also the reader's perspective?

"I think that crime fiction, noir, polar [a French term for cross between crime fiction and noir] and other types of this genre, have the function of being 'fact' novels. Evil must be written about not purely as an end in itself, but also as a social outcome - the result of a sickness created by the inequalities inside a community. The crime must be analyzed, asking why it happened, and not only questioning who committed it. From this point of view, crime fiction is like a doctor, who observing a symptom, goes on to discover the source of the illness. "

Speaking with your journalist hat on, do you think we have reached a tipping point in terms of how news outlets try to seek the truth in the face of rampant corruption as the public are flooded with lies through social media by special interests and people become entrenched in paranoid delusions?

"This age is bursting with information sources. At one time people received their information from traditional media, namely newspapers and television, now news arrives from every part of the internet world. As this world is completely uncontrolled, people, organizations, and actual manipulators are aiming to direct and influence public opinion with unverified and specifically fabricated false news. The trouble is that these forces can change the course of history. For example, if Britain chose to leave the European Union, it was partly because of the false news circulating, as shown by an Observer journalist. "

What do you see as religion's place in society now, especially in a country like Italy where it has underpinned life for so long, and how do you address this in your novels going forward?

“We live in a world, the western world, where traditional religion as a model for life and learning is almost totally irrelevant. This doesn't mean that spirituality doesn't exist, but it is expressed differently compared to traditional religion. At the same time, religion for some people in the rest of the world often crosses over to fanaticism which can lead to clashes, terrorism and violence. The coexistence in the West between European people and immigrants isn't easy, especially with Muslims whose values ​​are so different to ours. I have addressed this topic in a book not published in English - Commissario Soneri and the laws of the Koran. "

What have been the biggest positives from the TV adaptations of your Soneri novels and are you encouraged by the increased scope of stories allowed with the rise of the streaming services and their budgets?

“The positives are many. My character has entered the Italian collective imagination and the very 'noir' atmosphere, with the fog and the Po Valley towns in the background, have shown a part of Italy not normally represented. I, as the author, am proud of this televised adaptation which gives my work an extra value. And the series is currently being broadcast on television streaming channels. "

Which other authors have you been reading recently and what else do you do to unwind properly?

“At the moment I am rereading one of my passions: (Friedrich) Dürrenmatt. Soon I must devote time to reading Jean-Claude Izzo, another passion of mine. This is to prepare for a conference in which I'll be speaking about him. Otherwise I relax by reading and running. "

Read the Italian version of this interview HERE .

Find out more about Valerio's books on his website HERE .

L'autore italiano Valerio Varesi è stato una luce splendente nella narrativa poliziesca europea sin dalla pubblicazione del suo primo libro Ultime notizie di una fuga nel 1998, il nativo torinese è passato senza soluzione di continuità tra i suoi romanzi e il suo ruolo di giornalista per artisti del calibro di Repubblica.

I suoi racconti del Commissario Soneri sono stati adattati nella serie tv Nebbie e delitti, mentre ha scritto anche romanzi storico-politici raccolti nel volume Trilogia di una Repubblica.

Il suo ultimo racconto di Soneri The Unseen è stato tradotto in inglese per il pubblico britannico attraverso Patrician Press e vede il detective di Parma indagare su un caso irrisolto di un cadavere trovato nel fiume Po tre anni prima.

Matthew Ogborn: Valerio, le tue suggestive descrizioni del Po in The Unseen e dei racconti precedenti sono una parte così cruciale nel godimento di questa serie per me, quindi quante ricerche intraprendi per catturare l'atmosfera unica del fiume e i personaggi eccentrici che vivono e lavorano lì?

Valerio Varesi: "Mi baso essenzialmente su lunghe osservazioni del fiume e su passeggiate lungo le sponde. Lo stesso metodo vale per la città di Parma e per l’Appennino. In questo modo introietto delle sensazioni che poi traduco in immagini che riporto sulla pagina. E' come se fotografassi con la mente il paesaggio e ne registrassi le impressioni. Oltre a questo, parlo a lungo con la gente. Nel caso del Po, frequento i circoli nautici e dialogo con i barcaioli. Ho un rapporto di amicizia con il capitano di una nave che percorre il fiume portando in giro i turisti."

Proprio come la Florida per Carl Hiaasen e la Louisiana nei romanzi Robicheaux di James Lee Burke, l'ambientazione funge da personaggio in sé. Cos'è che ti affascina del Po?

"Il fiume è una metafora della vita, del tutto scorre di Eraclito. Inoltre rappresenta la potenza della natura: la corrente possente e apparentemente tranquilla che cela il mistero nella profondità delle sue acque. Il fiume che dà la vita e che la toglie. Di fronte a esso, come al cospetto di una grande montagna o allo sconfinato orizzonte del mare, ci sentiamo piccoli e limitati. Ritorniamo alla nostra umanità di esseri mortali al cospetto di ciò che appare immortale. Per questo la natura si avvicina al divino e lo rappresenta."

Hai un talento brillante nel rendere ogni personaggio vivo in modi idiosincratici, sia attraverso una descrizione insolita che un dialogo naturale. Quanto è importante per te quella parte del processo di scrittura al di fuori delle macchinazioni della trama e visiti persone di tutti i ceti sociali per inchiodarlo?

"Ogni scrittore ha un elevato tasso di schizofrenia nel senso buono del termine, vale a dire che sa essere altro da se stesso immedesimandosi nei suoi personaggi come vivendo altre vite differenti dalla propria. Gli scrittori sono ladri di vita altrui. Solo così riesco a creare personaggi credibili. Spesso traggo giovamento dalla frequentazione e dall'osservazione. In altri casi mi avvalgo di tipologie umane frequenti. Questo lavoro è fondamentale perché ogni trama e ogni visione del mondo hanno bisogno di personaggi che le facciano camminare."

I libri di Soneri sono anche notevoli per le descrizioni brutalmente oneste del passare del tempo e di come colpisce sia Soneri che le persone che lo circondano come Angela. Quanto è catartico per te e in che modo il tuo background in filosofia influenza i tipi di questioni che affronti?

"Soneri è un personaggio 'in itinere', si sviluppa, invecchia e cambia in ragione del tempo che passa. Il tempo è ciò che di più prezioso ci è dato e la nostra vita è una sorta di conto alla rovescia prima del nulla. Di questo è cosciente il mio commissario e sente con dolore il trascorrere degli anni. Tuttavia cerca di svolgere bene il suo compito nel mondo come suggerivano gli stoici e progetta i suoi anni consapevole della morte come ci ha insegnato Heidegger. Diciamo che i miei studi hanno lasciato una traccia nella sua visione della realtà considerando che in parte Soneri è il mio alter ego."

Quanto è importante per te ricevere riconoscimenti da organizzazioni internazionali come The CWA qui nel Regno Unito per i tuoi romanzi, sia che tu sia inserito in una lista lunga, in una lista ristretta o che vinca qualcosa a titolo definitivo?

"Molto importante, soprattutto se i riconoscimenti vengono dal Paese con la lingua più parlata nel mondo e quindi con una produzione editoriale di assoluto livello. A volte, in Italia, si ha l'impressione di vivere e scrivere in un orizzonte ristretto e un po' provinciale. Il fatto di essere apprezzato all'estero è per me vitale. Anche in Francia ho avuto buoni riconoscimenti e ottime vendite."

In questi tempi globali sempre più caotici in cui viviamo, quale vedi come ruolo della narrativa poliziesca sia dal punto di vista dello scrittore che dal punto di vista del lettore?

"Penso che la letteratura poliziesca, il noir, il polar e altri generi di questo tipo, abbiano la funzione d'essere i romanzi della realtà. Devono raccontare il male non come vicenda fine a se stessa, ma anche come prodotto sociale frutto di malesseri creati da squilibri all'interno di una comunità. Un delitto deve essere analizzato chiedendosi il perché accade e non solo interrogarsi su chi l'ha commesso. Da questo punto di vista il romanzo poliziesco si comporta come il medico che, osservato un sintomo, va a scoprire qual è l'origine della malattia."

Parlando con il tuo cappello da giornalista, pensi che abbiamo raggiunto un punto di svolta in termini di come le agenzie di stampa cercano di cercare la verità di fronte alla corruzione dilagante mentre il pubblico è inondato di bugie attraverso i social media da interessi speciali e le persone si trincerano in deliri paranoici?

"La nostra epoca pullula di fonti d'informazione. Un tempo le persone si informavano dai media tradizionali, vale a dire i giornali e la televisione, adesso le notizie arrivano da ogni parte del composito mondo di internet. Siccome tale mondo è del tutto incontrollato, vi agiscono persone, organizzazioni e veri e propri manipolatori con lo scopo di orientare l'opinione pubblica con notizie non verificate o con vere falsità fabbricate appositamente. Il guaio è che queste forze possono cambiare il corso della storia. Per esempio, se la Gran Bretagna ha scelto di uscire dall'Unione europea è anche per le false notizie che sono circolate, come ha dimostrato una giornalista dell'Observer."

Quale vedi come posto della religione nella società di oggi, specialmente in un paese come l'Italia dove ha sostenuto la vita per così tanto tempo, e come affronti questo nei tuoi romanzi in futuro?

"Viviamo in un mondo, quello occidentale, dove la religione come modello di vita e insegnamento è quasi del tutto ininfluente. Ciò non significa che non esista una spiritualità, ma che essa si esprime con modalità diverse rispetto a quelle della religione tradizionale. Contemporaneamente, la religione per alcuni popoli del resto del mondo, sconfina spesso in una forma di fanatismo che genera scontri, terrorismo e violenza. La coabitazione in occidente tra i popoli europei e gli immigrati non è facile, specie con i musulmani i cui valori differiscono molto dai nostri. Ho affrontato questo tema in un libro che però non è pubblicato in lingua inglese ('Il commissario Soneri e la legge del Corano')."

Quali sono stati i maggiori aspetti positivi degli adattamenti televisivi dei tuoi romanzi Soneri e sei incoraggiato dalla maggiore portata delle storie consentite con l'aumento dei servizi di streaming e dei loro budget?

"Le cose positive sono tante. Il mio personaggio è entrato nell'immaginario collettivo italiano e le atmosfere molto noir, con nebbia e città padane in sottofondo, hanno mostrato un pezzo d'Italia che normalmente non viene rappresentato. Io, come autore, vado fiero di questa traduzione in immagini che conferisce alla mia opera un valore in più. Tuttora la serie viene trasmessa sui canali televisivi in replica."

Quali altri autori hai letto di recente e cos'altro fai per rilassarti correttamente?

"In questo momento sto rileggendo una delle mie passioni: (Friedrich) Dürrenmatt. Presto dovrò dedicarmi a Jean-Claude Izzo, un'altra mia passione, per preparare una conferenza in cui parlerò di lui. Per il resto mi rilasso a leggere e a correre."

Scopri di più sui libri del Commissario Soneri di Valerio sul suo sito QUI.

Joseph Farrell is Professor Emeritus in Italian at the University of Strathclyde, Glasgow. He has translated several Italian novels by the likes of Valerio Varesi and Leonardo Sciascia. His theatre works include English editions of plays by Dario Fo, Eduardo De Filippo, Carlo Goldoni and Luigi Pirandello plus three film scripts by Giuseppe Tornatore. He is co-author with Franca Rame of Non è tempo di nostalgia and La mia vita, le mie battaglie with the novelist Dacia Maraini. His latest Varesi translation is The Unseen, which has been published in the UK through Patrician Press.

Matthew Ogborn: How much fun is it to translate Valerio's novels, which are packed with so much atmosphere unique to a particular region and so many characters that sing on the page in manifold ways?

Joseph Farrell: "Every exercise of translation is a mixture of enjoyment and frustration, a combination of challenges which can lead to a pleasurable sense of achievement or to downright despair. The reference to the 'atmosphere' which is 'unique to a particular region' goes to the heart of the matter. Atmosphere is intangible but vital, and recognising it as central to translation work is the key to the success of any translation. Not all linguistic dilemmas can be wholly resolved, although most can with care and imagination, but there are elements which are specific to the individual writer, some of which escape their notice and as such defy the translator's efforts.

"George Steiner identifies four moments in the process of translation: trust, aggression, incorporation, and retribution. 'Trust' and 'retribution', he writes, honour the source text and the author's intentions, while 'aggression' and 'incorporation' are associated with the efforts of the translator. I like that distribution of responsibility between writer and translator.

"Translation is thus a co-operative work, even if the original writer is dead or unco-operative. Valerio Varesi was highly co-operative, always prepared to answer queries and enter into discussion. A watershed book on translation was Lawrence Venuti's The Invisible Translator (1995) but never before has the translator been so visible and translation so much discussed, rarely by practitioners. Tim Parks is an exception, and unsurprisingly his essays are the ones I find most helpful and acute. Venuti made a much discussed distinction between two tendencies in translation, the tendency to 'foreignise' and the competing wish to 'domesticate'. Parks said that he mistrusts any translator who does not feel both of these urges.

"I agree, but the tension between two remains. Translation is a process of remaking, but what is the writer's role and what is the translator's? This is not to lend any credence to unjustifiable notions of the translator as 'second author', since the author's part is to develop plot, character, individual scenes and encounters, debate questions of values, advance certain views and reject others, and together these elements constitute the author's vision and dictate his style.

"The translator's task is to convey this creation in another language to readers of another culture. The translator has to devise voice and context, to collaborate with, and never contest, a recasting of the original. Transposing the vision is feasible, if challenging, but re-creating the style is the equivalent of the labours of Hercules. D. H. Lawrence, the greatest of the writer-translators – whatever the deficiencies of his knowledge of Italian – insisted on respecting the specificity of Verga's Sicilian work, and particularly of his dialect.

"One of Valerio Varesi' remarkable talents as a writer is his ability to create lively, engaging dialogue, notable especially in the interrogation scenes where his detective is intent on drawing out information, often without alerting the other person he is under suspicion. Equally, the more personal conversations between Commissario Soneri and Angela are reported with skill and sensitivity.

"His works are set in very particular geographical area, the city of Parma and the banks of the Po. He creates the terrain for his fiction, and his readers return to it with the joy of recognition of characters and landscapes. This carefully defined landscape presents no greater barrier to the task of the translator or the enjoyment of the reader than does a novel set in Dostoyevsky's Saint Petersburg or Balzac's Paris. As I noticed while translating successive novels by Varesi, the passages of descriptive prose, particularly of the scenery along the Po or in the countryside outside Parma, were reduced in number in successive books. Perhaps he was unaware of this shift, or felt that he had made his scene sufficiently concrete in the early novels, for there is a sense that all his crime fiction constitute one ongoing, developing novel.

"However, they are also set in an equally definable social, moral or even spiritual zone. The classical detective story, Anglo-American in origin, was essentially a moral tale, and so too are Varesi's. Further, his characters are vividly drawn, bursting with life, with a richness of experience which expressed not just lived experience but elements of local and national history. That added to the delight, and difficulty, of rendering his work in English."

How does Valerio differ from the other Italian authors that you translate from the native language?

"It is the merest cliché to say that every writer worthy of the name expresses his own world and his fiction expresses his reaction to it. Varesi is interesting for, among other things, being author of two genres of fiction normally held to be quite distinct – the crime story and the political novel. On the one hand, he has written a trilogy of novels on post-war Italy, while on the other he has written a series of detective stories featuring Commissario Soneri, but in important aspects the two series merge. His gialli are not merely works written as pastimes or vacuous entertainment to while away empty hours, perhaps while travelling by train; they constitute examinations of Italian society.

"Soneri and Angela recall their own youth in the years of the contestazione, evoking not just the passion of those years but the belief, commitment and hope of that time, and contrast them with the cynicism and shallowness of the power-worship of political practice now. He surveys aspects of Italian society by means of the detective novel. For instance, in River of Shadows, he examines the complex legacy of the Resistance, in Gold, Frankincense and Dust the ecclesiastical influence and in The Lizard Strategy he probes political corruption.

"In some novels, he introduces an oracular figure, an outsider, perhaps a displaced tramp or a priest, whom Soneri meets to converse on matters which transcend the crime investigation and which probe the values, or lack of values of society. This ability to pose awkward political and social questions differentiates his work from that of his contemporary crime writers in Italy or abroad."

Both as a translator and writer yourself, what is it that makes Italy so fascinating to you and how important is crime fiction in commenting on society particularly with the current political landscape shifting towards the right again?

"There are two very different questions here: a) I have written extensively for newspapers and journals on Italian politics, and the main point I want to make is that the love I feel for Italy, its culture and society – and for Sicily in particular   –  is of a quite different order from the political dimension of Italian life. My affinity with things Italian is entirely impervious to any distaste for the conduct of politicians. I should add that I also detest the condescending way in which British commentators tend to observe political behaviour in Rome, or Palermo, as though the conduct of politics in Westminster were of an intrinsically superior level. This judgment has suffered a jolt with events at British Cabinet level in the 21st century.

"I went to Rome in the 1960s and attended university for three years. I was studying philosophy so a knowledge of the literature came later, but I was immediately fascinated by the city, the exuberance of life lived at a different tempo from any I was accustomed to, even by the climate which made possible the banal fact of living outdoors. I was also drawn by Rome's overlapping historical periods as visible in stone, and particularly by its architecture. Nothing made as strong and impact as the diverging styles, and rivalry, of the 18th century contemporaries,  Bernini and Borromini. I had no interest then in Italian politics. This multi-dimensional fascination with Italy cannot be shaken.

"b) In crime fiction, there is no Italian equivalent of the village or drawing murder story of the Agatha Christie type, even if Christie herself is translated and widely read. There is a map of Italian crime writers which covers all Italy, Varesi in Parma, Sciascia and Camilleri in Sicily, Lucarelli in Bologna, and Machiavelli in Turin. They are all linked to their own native places, but the probes in their crime fiction reveal the deep ambiguity of their relationship to these places. They are not afraid to expose beneath the surface decencies a hidden, concealed foundations. This probing has become more relentless since the emergence of Berlusconi as a political force, and the emergence of the League as a national, not regional power. It is reasonable to assume that this wish to view crime not as the act of a deviant individual but as a symptom of a social ill will continue under the government of the extreme right coalition led by Giorgia Meloni."

Read the English version of my Valerio Varesi interview HERE.

Crime fiction set in the USA has a storied history with American authors such as Raymond Chandler, Patricia Highsmith and Chester Himes delivering a series of brilliant books through to the likes of evocative bestselling authors like Michael Connelly, Karin Slaughter and James Lee Burke who have stood out in recent decades with ambitious and atmospheric tales.

More and more British authors, though, are making a big impression with American set tales that span memorable eras in the nation's history. Rod Reynolds' trilogy featuring disgraced New York reporter Charlie Yates stood out over the last few years, while Ray Celestin's City Blues Quartet is a multi-award-winning series of novels plotting the intertwined history of jazz and the Mob through six decades of the 20th century.

With the fourth and final outing in the series Sunset Swing placed on the shortlist for both The Crime Writers' Association’s Gold and Historical Dagger awards, Ray was kind enough to take time out from writing his latest book and screenwriting projects to talk about the monumental crime series that, for me, ranks alongside the very best in crime fiction history.

Matthew Ogborn: What is your typical working day now that it looks like we have come out of the pandemic finally?

Ray Celestin: "I try and do novels in the morning when my brain is fresher and I do screenwriting in the afternoon, mostly writing pitches and treatments. There is a lot of waiting around and trying to prove your ideas. I have got a few things with production companies, endlessly tweaking treatments before they send them off to broadcasters. I just got a one-episode commission from ITV for a crime drama.

"I am not a typical author. I do loads of drafts before I submit to the publisher, so I normally submit the fifth or sixth draft and then we do the line edit and copy edit. A lot of authors submit their first draft, and it is a bit of a mess, and then they work with the editor. I have a few friends who I send the earlier drafts to. One friend is a former editor, and she puts big red crosses through lots of the historical chunks where she says, 'You've stopped being a novelist at this paragraph and you've started writing a historical book for the next three pages, and then you are a novelist again.' A lot of time it is coming up with a good segue from the plot to the history bit and then, other times, it is sort of disguising it. “If you have an interesting historical tidbit, I think it is quite good technique to find a location that reflects that and set the scene in that location. There is a scene in Sunset Swing where they kidnap Kerry and take her to a disused studio lot. Originally that scene started in a supermarket and then I was reading about how in the late 1960s the studio system was falling apart, and they were selling off their studio lots to developers. Historic film sets got mysteriously burnt down in insurance fires, so they got sold off and they used the money to buy property in Vegas. If I just set the scene in the studio lot, loads of that history will come naturally as part of the scene rather than just having a character relate that in dialogue or think that as they are looking at something. LA has got so many brilliant locations. I make a list of cool places and think which scene I can place in which location to get the most atmosphere out of."

How strong is the pull of writing historical crime fiction compared to contemporary?

"There is this nostalgia thing. I don't know if it is as simple as life is a bit depressing now, so we are looking back to the past. I don't think the past was better, in most instances it was worse. When I write the books, part of it is puncturing whatever people's view of what the period was. In Sunset Swing, it is set in the summer of 1967 which I always thought was the Summer of Love and a high point of compassion and culture, but it was actually a long, hot summer and there were so many race riots that year. This really violent summer had its own nickname - The Long Hot Summer.

"I like the research. I like reading history books and articles, but I read novels, short stories, and poetry of the time. You get a good sense of the language and what people were thinking way more than you would in an actual history book. With outlining, I treat it like a crossword puzzle. It is a game of slotting all these things together. The only bit of the whole thing I dislike is writing the first draft, it is like pulling teeth out putting the clay on the thing. I enjoy rewriting. I have this slow inefficient process doing six to eight weeks for a draft, leave it in the drawer for a month or two then book two days off and just reread it and then do the next draft. Sunset Swing took about three years, the longest of the three sequels. I don't think I can work in any other way or streamline it. My editor's line edits are very much her cutting stuff out and reducing the word count. You always think you need more words than you actually do. It is always maybe 10% over what it should be, which is very much a screenwriting thing as well scrabbling for every line to make it shorter and shorter."

Did you envision this as a series when you set out to write The Axeman's Jazz first?

"I wrote The Axeman's Jazz as a standalone as part of a two-book deal. I spoke with the publisher and she said you should write the sequel. I didn't really want to write a series like commercial crime fiction with 20, 25 books following the same detective, but while I was researching the Axeman I stumbled across this theme of the twin stories of jazz and the Mob and this weird thing that wherever the Mob was prominent in whatever decade, Louis Armstrong happened to be there. I like jazz music and Mob Mafia stories, so I could write about those two things. It had an end point and it felt like a closed story. He was in Chicago in the 20s, New York in the 40s and then the last book I wasn't sure whether it would be in the 50s or 60s and, before I had even written the second book, I realised actually What a Wonderful World would be a brilliant way to end the series. He wrote it in 1967 right at the end of his life and the decline of the Mob kicked off, so a good ending of that last scene of him recording or playing it to Ida. It was very clear there would be four of them.

"In Axeman, Ida and Louis are the youngest characters and they need to be the leads if the series wants to go on. Very early on I had this idea where you meet them at different points in their life and see the progression of them as people. One of the things that I am not happy with in the Axeman is that Louis gets really involved in the crime plot and in the subsequent books he is not massively involved, he passes on information and is a conduit for the history. That was always difficult getting that balance right. He was a real historical figure; he can't be running around like Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter!”

Did it get easier or harder to write the sequels as you flitted around time and locations?

"Each book was easier to research. Axeman was tricky as most of the history is music history as jazz professors were the only people really studying that period. That was cool because there were more jazz musicians in the book, so musicology was the main research for that book. There were not many novels written in New Orleans during that time, even though there were loads of 1800s New Orleans novels. I was relying a bit more on newspapers like the Picayune. They have digitised their archive, but there was a fire in their archive in the 1950s and for the two years that Axeman was set there was no archive, so I had to piece it together from years either side. The other thing is that none of the music was recorded. There was recording technology in New York, Paris and London but not a backwater like New Orleans, so all those original songs and classic first-generation jazz musicians they could have been recorded if somebody had realised the value of what was going on.

"The only city that I have visited is New York after living in it briefly. It was the easiest to write as I knew the streets and neighbourhoods. The first two are so far back in time, there are not many people alive who could say, 'Well, actually, that was not how life was like in New Orleans one hundred years ago'. It would be my research versus their research, but the most recent one was the trickiest because I started writing it before the pandemic and there wasn't much hope of me going there and there are loads of people alive who still remember the 60s in LA. It was the easiest to point out errors in the research and the feel of it."

Staying in Los Angeles, did the likes of Chandler influence your series finale?

"I was reading Raymond Chandler books when I was still in school and really loving them, but more recently I am a huge fan of James Ellroy. Another thing that made Sunset Swing tricky was that I was going into his patch. LA is a really literary city, there are loads of brilliant poets, novelists and essayists despite its reputation as a cultural desert just all about the movies. I got into a rhythm with reading Ellroy, and it is a bit hypnotic. I'm aware that he is not everyone's cup of tea, but I love his writing style and his knack for dialect and jargon, and the atmosphere is great as well."

Faron is one of the most chilling villains I have ever encountered in crime fiction, so how did you go about creating him without falling back into a clichéd antagonist?

"I wanted a Mafia boogeyman character. The second book was in the 20s and then it skips over the 30s which was the time of Murder, Inc. with a blue-chip corporation of hitmen going all over American killing people for the Mafia. I couldn't get the Prohibition/Great Depression in, so Faron was a way of having that. He started off in the Appalachians as a booze runner, then joins Murder, Inc. then becomes a legendary boogeyman and they meet him in the 40s when he already has this big reputation and a bit of a myth. There is a character in Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian called The Judge who is basically the Devil in human form. I liked that idea of having this sort of character who is almost supernatural, the embodiment of violence and poverty - a Mafia archetype, a horrific psychopath. The other thing that fed into him, which goes against the recent pop culture obsession with hitmen, is that they are horrible people. They get paid to kill people. How did these people become our heroes? I didn't want to glamorise it and I made a conscious effort to have a hitman be a really bad guy, not cool. Voodoo is a strand that runs through the series and he is very much a voodoo character operating in the shadows."

At its core, the series hangs on the Ida and Louis relationship. Was that a delicate dance in how to portray a fictional character and a real-life character over such a long period?

"The one tricky thing was Louis Armstrong's dialogue. I had to write the literary version of how he would speak and speak to Ida. That was a balance. With the other characters, that was quite easy as the investigator characters are all quite brusque. Ida is an African American who can pass for white, so she has a unique experience. I am aware that I am a white guy on a different continent who's got nothing in common with her really, so I didn't feel comfortable doing the civil rights and racism through Ida's eyes. Instead, I just made her a cop, a detective and an investigator viewing the world through that analytical lens. That was the only way I could come at this and feel comfortable about writing it. She has a roving eye and she is a logic machine. “There are funny things like every time she meets Louis he forces her to smoke a joint. She is strait laced and Louis is very much, 'Come on, chill out and smoke a joint'. I guess the other thing with her is that one of the notes I got in the second and third books is that there is not a lot of conflict between her and Michael. I did the opposite. They are likeable, reasonable people who are fun to be around and they bounce off each other. It is not like Sherlock Holmes and Watson where there is a brain and a guy who gets everything explained to him. These are two brains and talented people, and it is fun to watch how fast they think and spur each other on. It is like work porn. We love watching James Bond and Indiana Jones being really good at their jobs and that is why we also watch the Olympics and any sport. I wanted them to be doing stuff that the reader never could and the reader realises they are operating at a higher level and figuring out stuff that we never could. It has become a bit of a cliche now where the lead characters have to be chalk and cheese."

What do you want readers to get most out of this sweeping book series ultimately?

"The City Blues Quartet looks at the Mafia and jazz music, which are far apart and rarely get put together. Jazz musicians - when they have been depicted in film and TV - are a bit of a joke, they are light entertainment. Louis Armstrong, Sidney Bechet, and Duke Ellington were serious, proper avant-garde artists. People don't consider that generation as the equal of Picasso and Stravinksy, but they were modernists and they have never been depicted properly in that way especially in book two Dead Man's Blues with the 1920s hot jazz, avant-garde cutting edge music and book three The Mobster's Lament through bebop in the 1940s."

After delivering such an iconic crime fiction series, what is next? Historical again?

"I am working on a Victorian Gothic haunted house book, which is almost finished, and then hopefully the next thing is a standalone contemporary crime thriller set in the UK. I want to do another hardboiled historical series, but I haven't figured it out yet."

2021 is a weird time for everyone right now with debut authors hit by the lack of a traditional marketing window for their precious first book out the gate. Despite that, Allie Reynolds and her Headline publishing team managed to get her big publisher auction debut Shiver widespread coverage leading into its UK release two weeks ago. High-profile author blurbs and Waterstones promotion, amongst other activity, has given this fresh take on the psychological thriller genre a good chance of emerging from the pack which it deserves for its finely paced story and atmospheric snowy setting. I spoke with Allie at the back end of 2020 from her Gold Coast home in Australia to find out more about the former British snowboarder's career switch, inspirations and what the future holds.

Are you still pinching yourself with how the last couple of years has gone?

It has been an absolute dream. I suppose when I was writing it, I never knew if I would find a publisher. I kind of thought it was a niche book that might just be of interest to snowboarders and there weren’t that many thrillers set in ski resorts. I have heard from a lot of readers so far, who enjoy the insight into this world that they didn't know about.

How much tweaking did you have to do in order to bring the snowboarding side of it to life?

I had to add in about 20,000 words, partly because my US editor had never been to a ski resort and wanted explanation and clarification of what a halfpipe and tow lift was, in case readers couldn't visualise them.

Where have your biggest writing style influences come from?

Lee Child is a big influence. I am a massive fan. There is something really addictive about his thrillers. He tends to write in very short, sharp sentences. He writes in very simple language, there's no fancy bits or frilly bits or pretentious bits - it is just all about the story and I love that as I don't want to be pretentious in my language. You can absorb his words easily and that is the writing style that I try to emulate. I seem to mainly read female psychological thriller authors like Jane Harper, Erica Ferencik, Ruth Ware and Clare Mackintosh, a lot of the British authors. I love debut thrillers as they often have high concepts that are different to anything that you have seen before. Clare's books seem to have characters that feel things quite deeply and you care about them. I am trying hard to do that, because that is what I like reading.

The emotional depth of the characters in Shiver is one of the things that I picked up on, so where did the light-bulb moment come for that?

I never read any craft books until the last few years. I was a foreign languages nerd, and I didn't study English literature past the age of 15. I was just trying to write novels without knowing anything about the theory and struggling massively. Some of the craft books contradict the others, so I don't follow them rigorously, but I take the bits that I like from each one and form my own little note file of what I want to use. The Emotional Craft of Fiction: How to Write the Story Beneath the Surface by Donald Maass is one I really love and looks at emotion separately and the psychology of what readers might feel, even though it is challenging to understand. Scene & Structure by Jack Bickham is a little bit dated, but he talks about the scene and the sequel when the characters are processing what has happened and formulating a new path. Everything is about pace in thrillers these days and this part often gets cut out. He explains about writing in scenes, not chapters. Get in late to a scene and finish early on a cliffhanger. It is quite strange the process of how I came up with the characters. When I started out, I was researching snowboarders by watching YouTube videos of current top athletes, their mannerisms, the way they speak and just trying to get inspiration. Two of them started out as real, pro snowboarders but then they morphed as I wrote into something completely different. With Milla, there is a lot of me in there but hopefully not as competitive. I wanted to overhype that flaw of hers as it kind of drives the whole story in the end. I am a massive fan of John Truby and he always talks about how your main character must be an underdog. Another of his big focuses is how the character's flaw should drive the story. Almost every event that happens in the book happens because Milla is competitive. I liked the idea of Curtis being a hero with strong morals. Robert McKee talks about having characters that you would like to be or admire and look up to. Having a pull for the reader. I guess Saskia is the shadow side of Milla. The villain should have some aspects of the heroine, but then they take something too far.

Were you worried some readers might get put off by the snowboard circuit romance part of it?

I did wonder how the romance would go down as I had heard that UK readers do not especially like romance with their thrillers unlike Australia and the USA, where romantic suspense is a bigger genre. I was trying to get the fact that everybody knows everybody in that winter resort scene. Relationships might make or break and the following year somebody is seeing somebody else.

Did you also have it in the back of your mind that the women's psychological thriller genre boom might fade before your book even got out there?

I did worry that the psychological thriller boom would finish while I was writing it, but it seems to be going on longer than anyone anticipated. You always wonder when a dark situation like COVID-19 happens that people might look for something uplifting instead, but I see Shiver at the lighter end of that spectrum. I shy away from anything really dark or violent. It has been called a locked room mystery because the characters at the reunion play an icebreaker game, and whoever created the game clearly knows the dark secrets of their past. They are stranded in a closed environment. And Then There Were None was a big inspiration. The way they are invited by false pretences and realise early on they are not sure who it was.

It felt very cinematic reading it, so I assume screen rights have been snapped up?

The TV option was sold to Firebird Pictures straight after the publisher auction and, fingers crossed, it gets made. Julian, at my agency Blake Friedmann, really took care of rights. I got really lucky with my agent Kate Burke too.

What can we expect next now you have your foot firmly in the door?

I need silence at the starting phase of the book and time to think, so it was impossible trying to write the second book during lockdown homeschooling with my kids, but I am trying hard to finish it soon. It is quite a strange process compared to Shiver as I didn't know if anyone would read it. I was unselfconscious and sort of feeling my way along. This time it is very different as I have constant promotion work going on for Shiver. My next book is set here in Australia on a beach in a totally different environment with a fresh set of characters, so it is quite hard switching back and forth. You hear about second book syndrome. It is terrifying writing to a contract full stop, where you have to write the same but different. You are trying to capture everything they liked about your first book but trying to make it different enough. It has a sports focus in this second book a little bit as well, as athletes interest me, and we haven't seen them much in fiction.

Rod Reynolds is one of the best crime fiction authors to emerge in the last five years, his Charlie Yates trilogy set in the USA up there with other British writers such as Ray Celestin as well as Americans like Attica Locke and James Lee Burke. I had heard of Rod's work in the industry, but it wasn't until lockdown that I had the time to indulge in his writing. His ear for American dialogue from the 1940s is excellent, while his plotting and characters draw you in - the protagonists and antagonists constantly criss-crossing the line between good and evil. After moving on from Charlie and Faber for the time being, his latest book Blood Red City for Orenda Books is set in London - the city where he grew up as a council estate boy. Rod kindly took time out from working on his new book to talk about his career journey, inspirations and fitting writing in around bringing up young children.

How did a lad from Camden end up mining 1940s America for his first published novels?

I took a sabbatical from advertising in 2010 for a year to try and write a novel. I took a distance learning course with The London School of Journalism. I had never written anything, even though I have always been a big reader of crime. I grew up on a council estate in Camden and I didn't know anyone who had ever done anything like that. It was only as I got older, one of my old bosses was writing a book and he said, "You know what, why can't it be someone like us". I wrote a novel, sent it off to a million agents and got rejected, but got some really nice feedback saying, “This story doesn't work, but keep writing”. I went back to work with a new job, real life took over for a couple of years and it got to a point where I needed to decide whether I needed to do anything with this or put it away as a flight of fancy. I had the idea for the book that would become The Dark Inside after I stumbled across a real-life case that inspired it and I did some research into it. I had the voice at least that would become the character of Charlie Yates and it was quite vivid in my mind, so to give myself a shove I signed up to do the Masters course at City, University of London in novel writing. I was really lucky as it was the first year they ran a crime specific course with novelist Claire McGowan, amongst others. I had some amazing teaching that helped me develop the book and I ended up getting picked up by my first agent before I graduated then, not too long after, I landed with Faber. Lucky coming together of different circumstances.

How hard was it to change your mindset from advertising to novel writing?

I was a buyer in advertising, so that was a very social job. Great in some ways as you could get to take clients to drinks, dinner and parties, but I was working silly hours. I had reached my natural conclusion with advertising as I had done my 10-year stint. I wasn't passionate about it anymore. I was specifically dealing with newspapers, which was a declining sector of the industry. I was already looking at having to change my skill set if I wanted to carry on, so it wasn't too hard for me to walk away in that sense. I miss being around the office with the team I worked with. If I could have done the job from Thursday lunchtime to Friday evening, I would have happily done that forever. The rest of the week I could leave out. One of the reasons that I wanted to do the City of London course, because I was working full-time, I needed something to structure me and find that time in my week to write. I was also working on a deadline that we were due our first child halfway through the course, so I had to get that done. After I left my job, I swapped with my wife once she finished her maternity leave so I was looking after our little one at the time. It was helpful in a way because the only time I could write was at nap time or in the evenings. No time to worry about whether it was perfect, so I just got the words out and got the book done. Towards the end of the second novel, we were expecting our second child so the book had to be done again. My kids are school age now. I kind of look back and think, "How the hell did I work to those restrictions?" It is like anything - you get used to it and find a way.

I think Charlie Yates is one of the most flawed and interesting crime fiction protagonists we have seen in recent years, so how did he evolve?

James Ellroy was the big starting point for me, even after I got into Chandler, Hammett et al. Charlie started out as a voice that I could hear in my head, even if that sounds ephemeral or arty. I had this world weary, beaten down, over the hill journalist who kind of hated himself. I could hear how he would approach this situation whereby he is taken from being cynical in New York City and plunged into this seemingly nothing story in the Deep South which suddenly becomes very important to him, because he can see the effect on people in the town, the victims and their families. It is a matter of life and death. It is based on the real-life Texarkana Moonlight Murders in 1946. I wanted to fictionalise that scenario. The reason he comes from New York is that I read that a journalist from The Times in London was sent over to cover it, but it felt a little bit contrived so the next best alien place for me was New York as it was closer to understanding someone's life from London than somewhere else.

Did the clever FBI through line arrive at the start of your outlining?

Initially it was only going to be a standalone book, then I was going to write a second novel set in the same universe with different characters - something that Ellroy has done and I love. When Faber bought The Dark Inside, they asked for Charlie to come back and that wasn't too tricky. Colt Tanner came about essentially as someone I wanted to write to challenge myself and have fun with. He is unashamedly on both sides of the law. He is willing to do bad things, but he is on the side of the angels in his own mind. He is utterly convinced that the ends justify the means because of what he is trying to achieve. Charlie has got his own flaws and is riddled with self-doubt, while Colt is absolutely certain of his own moral rectitude.

How difficult was the Bugsy Siegel arc to write about?

I have been lucky enough to travel to Las Vegas a number of times over the years and I wanted to write something set there in the early days because it was such a sleazy, strange, literal desert outpost that became almost overnight this gambling mecca. I hadn't planned to involve it in the series and, when I travelled to Texarkana on a research trip and I was finishing up a draft of The Dark Inside, we were driving to Memphis to catch a flight to somewhere else and we passed this town called Hot Springs. I started reading up on the history of this town and how it had been run by this English gangster, who was sent down from New York and all this incredible history that it had. Bugsy Siegel was a regular visitor there and it looks like he took some of its influence as the blueprint for Vegas. Suddenly it just came together. That was book two sorted and I had a story I wanted to tell, and I can then link that straight to Bugsy finishing off the Flamingo in Vegas throughout book three. I was very lucky that Hot Springs, this town in the middle of nowhere in Arkansas that was really isolated in a valley fifty miles down the road from Texarkana, was Siegel's favourite location.

Are you a pantser or a plotter?

I love dialogue. I enjoy it the most and find it the most natural. I am a reluctant plotter. I started out as a pantser with a plan only really in my head but, with each book, the more I plan at the start the more it helps me at the back end. I was worried that it would stifle creativity and actually it is not really the case. I can now start with the synopsis and a route map I know I am going to try and follow. If I veer off from that and find better ways that is not a problem, but it is when you don't have that and don't know how to get from A to B or E to F in the middle of the story - that is when you can end up struggling.

Did you struggle getting back into a British groove for the new book?

All the stuff that I had written had been set in the States, even my first novel that was unpublished. You think it would be easy to write British as it is all around us and I am also writing in the present day without having to worry about anachronisms and regional dialects which was a tricky thing with the previous books, but it took a while to get those beats to make it sound authentic and the way I heard it in my head. I am not one for sharing my stuff until I am absolutely happy with it and satisfied it is as good as I can make it, then I am quite lucky in that I have a couple of trusted readers that I send it to. One will tell me if the story is good and then one will find any tiny mistake that I have made and picks up stuff even copy editors can miss. Karen Sullivan from Orenda Books is great. She does the first edit for Orenda, then we work with West Camel who is her editor and he goes through it a second time and incorporates his feedback. It is nice to have that two-stage process. Blood Red City is out in paperback and has done really well. Financial Times picked it as one of their summer reads. The reviews have been great and people have been getting in touch to say that they have enjoyed it. Orenda have a big network of bloggers and readers on board and that is helpful as it touches on themes that some people might find off-putting. It starts with financial crime and I didn't want to put it solely in that direction as it is about murder and London. Orenda have a small team, but they have built an incredible presence.

What are your hopes going forward?

The story I am working on at the moment has elements of a psychological thriller about it, even though it didn't start out that way. This new one was supposed to be a big departure. I was looking at something like a Sliding Doors thing with parallel lives, but at the start of lockdown I cut half the story, which was quite painful, but I am enjoying writing it. I also have a second book with Orenda, which is going through edits and is set in the present day in the States based on another real-life case. Hopefully that is out in 2021. As a community, you will do well to find a warmer or more welcoming bunch of people than we have in crime fiction. You think there would be some competitiveness, but I haven't seen any.

Kill the Father and Kill the Angel are two of the most enjoyable crime fiction books that I have read in the last few years. Buzzing with wit, invention and pop culture references, Sandrone Dazieri has established an arresting series that will hopefully run for longer. Aside from these two international bestsellers, Dazieri has been a prolific author of other books and screenplays so it was an honour to be able to quiz this fascinating Italian wordsmith on what makes him tick.

1) Do you prefer the often restrictive nature of screenwriting or the unlimited scope of novel writing?

They are different fields and I live them in very different ways. I love the speed of execution of screenplays - their amazing conciseness and storytelling through images. I also like to see how a script changes in the hands of a director and actors. When it works, it's wonderful, because it multiplies the power of the written word. When it doesn't work... it is still a pleasant way to make a living. Novels, instead, are my home. I grew up in them, first as a reader and then as a writer, and they are the only place where I can truly do whatever I want. All the rest was coming and going, but over the last 20 years I have written novels almost every day.

2) How important is a strong, malevolent antagonist to underpin a riveting crime series such as yours?

It is extremely important, but my real antagonist is never a human being. Yes, there is a murderer and they need to be found, but both in the first and second novels of the 'Uccidi il padre' trilogy, the person who carries out the act is only a piece of a larger system, a corrupt and compromised system, linked to the state. It is a thriller, not a spy story, but I try to represent an idea of crime that goes beyond our borders. By now, evil is globalised.

3) Did you imagine actors when you were writing Caselli and Torre as they truly jump off the page?

Thank you for the compliment. In order to move a character through a novel, I need to know how they would behave in a given situation without having to think about it too much. I need to hear their voice in my head when they speak. In short, I have to identify with them, even if they are a monster. It's like Stanislavski's system applied to writing. If I had to stick an actor's face on them, it wouldn't work for me.

4) Your pop culture references are hugely enjoyable, which help to give the characters and story depth. Are you surprised more authors do not pepper their books with them to infuse more of a human touch?

Actually, many writers do that, and many do it better than me. For example, authors such as Stephen King and Niccolò Ammaniti. And then it is true that we always try to show off classical culture and not pop culture. Unfortunately I am lacking in classical culture, I had no choice.

5) Do you outline your books rigorously or do you meander off on tangents as the writing day evolves?

I don't meander off, but I don't do treatments or outlines. If I'm getting to the end, I do a list of the missing chapters, to check that I am not leaving anything out. I know that the story I want to tell will come only after I have warmed up and have had the characters move around a bit. I don't meander because I know where I am going, even if sometimes I end up in dead ends and end up throwing away many pages. Every time I know that, to reach my goal, I will have to learn some new tricks and this is gratifying.

6) Which authors and filmmakers have influenced you the most, both when you started out writing and now?

There are hundreds, to tell you the truth. When I like a novel, a film or a character, they continue to work inside me for a good long while. Lately I have been ordering again the novels I read between the ages of 12 and 14. Of some of these I am able to quote lines by heart and I remember they key scenes as if I had been there. I have also been influenced by comics, songs, animations etc... so let's mention one name per category. Stephen King for novels, Alan Moore for comics, David Bowie for music, Yoshiyuki Tomino for anime and Hideo Kojima for video games.

7) How important was your background working in several professions before you settled on writing?

I am a kind of minestrone with lots of different bits in it but, if I have to mention a job that certainly shaped me, I'd have to say a reviewer of TV movies for a magazine. Every week, I had to summarise the plot of a hundred films into five lines each. I only had the title for about half of those films because they came from obscure American cable TV channels and, at the time, we didn't have the Internet. I made a lot of stuff up, and it was a great exercise.

8) What aspects of journalism have informed your writing the most in the creative and editing phases?

None. I have a press card, but I don't consider myself a journalist. I got the card when I was working in TV magazines, but the peak of my career was interviewing a few presenters. I had the feeling I was bothering them and I would freeze. I never got any scoops.

9) How did the big success of the Gorilla series change how you approach the craft of writing?

Very rarely do I have a crack at a Facebook quiz, however one that a friend of mine produced the other day piqued my interest. As a film screenwriter and journalist, albeit somewhat lapsed, I wanted to revisit each year since 1976 to see what films have had the most profound effect on me as a person and writer. The first thing that struck me was how devoted to American cinema I have been, while it soon became clear that the late 1970s, 1980s and 1990s were exceptional decades for English-language films across multiple genres. Certain years such as 1976, 1987, 1988, 1992, 1993, 1997 and 1999 were so packed with marvellous films that I had a desperately hard time choosing my favourite. How can I choose All the President’s Men when the year also contained such important and enjoyable movies as Marathon Man, Network, Rocky and Taxi Driver? In this particular occasion Alan J. Pakula’s masterpiece set me on the road to becoming a journalist, a profession that has treated me well. Fast forward to 1987 and I finally plump for The Untouchables, despite the urgent clamouring of Cry Freedom, Good Morning, Vietnam, Moonstruck, Predator, Raising Arizona and Tin Men. Why? I watched the De Palma documentary a few days before and was reminded of that film’s potency.

Other favourites, many of which I try and watch every few years, like The Accused, First Blood, The Fugitive, Heat, Howard’s End, Together and Unforgiven also missed out. Naturally, I might do this list in a year’s time and come up with a completely different one, such is the joy of cinema. There are huge holes in my watching that I am trying hard to fill, the recent upsurge in excellent foreign movies and those foreign classics of decades past eventually finding their way to the top of my DVD or streaming pile. So finally, my list. It is eclectic, ludicrously so to many observers, but I find cheeseball American comedies as powerful as intense, moving foreign dramas therefore I tried to balance out the list with what represents me the best. I’d love to hear what you think about it and discover which films made your heart sing.

1976 All the President's Men 1977 Star Wars 1978 The Deer Hunter 1979 Alien 1980 The Fog 1981 Fort Apache, The Bronx 1982 The Thing 1983 Krull 1984 The NeverEnding Story 1985 Fletch 1986 Aliens 1987 The Untouchables 1988 Midnight Run 1989 Dead Poets Society 1990 Internal Affairs 1991 The Silence of the Lambs 1992 White Men Can't Jump 1993 Carlito's Way 1994 Exotica 1995 Get Shorty 1996 Kingpin 1997 Event Horizon 1998 The Big Lebowski 1999 Galaxy Quest 2000 101 Reykjavík 2001 Lantana 2002 Secretary 2003 The Barbarian Invasions 2004 Sideways 2005 The Matador 2006 Pan's Labyrinth 2007 Michael Clayton 2008 Departures 2009 Dogtooth 2010 A Prophet 2011 Crazy, Stupid, Love. 2012 Rust and Bone 2013 The Hunt 2014 It Follows 2015 Sicario 2016 Hell or High Water 2017 Kong: Skull Island

     After 18 months as Digital and Social Media Editor for the UK’s biggest advertising and marketing trade body The IPA, I have decided to return to my freelance roots in my beloved journalism, writing and photography.