By Jamie Paradise
Detective Frederick Street loves his son Elvis: Elvis detests his dad: each wants to shake the other down over a bent cocaine deal involving porn impresario, Wade Long, and Shoreditch spiv, James Maroon.
Wednesday, 15 November 2017
GOING LIVE: Taking a rocket to the skies
Hello - and thanks so much for reading this and for pledging, or considering a pledge, towards having Night Time Cool published - its very kind of you.
I have been trying to write a brilliant, moving novel for nearly 25 years - I am 46 and started my first one age 23 - and have known since 8 I wanted to write stories.
So, where I am now, on the verge of acheiving a lifelong dream, is a relentless thrill a-moment ride that feels brill given all the hard work and knockbacks it has taken.
Basically, a hardheaded, no-fucking-way determination to not give up caused the breakthrough with Night Time Cool.
When it came - a moment of actual, real-life magic: two years ago, on Xmas Eve, I went to a carol service in my village, heard the singing, this sensation coursed through me, and I thought yes, set the next novel at Xmas time and yes, make it the story of a caper-happy, crooked-with-a-grin Met Police detective and his son: instantly I had the vision for the story and the fucker flowed out of me like something from a literary cliche.
The feeling of going from a blank first page to the finished Night Time Cool is like a lifetime of life-changing sensations condensed into a sensory cluster-fuck that is re-felt/re-experienced every time I think about it.
Brilliant, a gift.
So, please read the excerpt on the mainpage to get a sense of what NTC is about, I really hope you enjoy it: it's supposed to be fun, serious, poetic, the whole thing.
If you've already kindly pledged thank you so much, I will love you forever. If you do so or in the future, I will fucking love you, too, forever.