Norman Mailer is dead. This is not his fault – probably. He has been dead since 2007, apparently. In his time he was a terrific novelist, a great essayist, and frequently a crashing bore. Reminds me of me. Except for…
From Readers’ Favourite, an independent website which reviews new books 100% OF AUTHOR ROYALTIES IN AID OF CANCER RESEARCH UK Reviewed by Christian Sia for Readers’ Favorite “A wonderful blend of humor, satire, and drama, Sally’s Road by Jon Elkon…
Another mass shooting! Like you, I went through all the stages of bereavement – from horror, pain and sadness right through to anger. Then the search for someone to blame. And another bruising Twitter battle with gun-supporting Americans, some of…
An Agent I met at a writers’ workshop this weekend sighed, picked her pert nose and said, “publishers just don’t take risks any more!”. The main reason being, of course, digital publishing. Kindle, Mobo, Ibooks etc. Even though a recent…
Extract from a novel in progress by JON ELKON Alfredo Capodimonte came from a family considered amongst the aristocrats of the opera in Italy. As producers directors and managers at the Scala in Milan, at Rome and Verona they had been…
Sally’s Road – the paperback – is mere weeks away. So here for you, beloved friends, is a sample to whet your appetite. Hopefully! It is a tale of cancer and the defeat (?) of cancer. From the stifling suburbia…
I have no potatoes. I have tomatoes lumbagos tornados and excuses instead. My new novel, the Ragazzo (working title until I Google it and find some illiterate bastard has stolen it years ago) is happening, a few sentences at a…
Every day in every way we are being screwed! There lurk greedy beings galore/ behind every door/ whose job is to keep me and you/ POOR! Here is my Top 10. Rank the ways YOU are being screwed in…
How did the Royal Borough go from nice to the nasty mean Local Authority which ignored the needs of the victims of the Grenville fire? Having lived in the Borough for more than twenty years, I watched it change. I…
Thursday The Last Day, the Day of the Apocalypse. Scudding clouds, patches of dribbling rain, ignored. Absolutely no relevance. This is between me and you, God, whoever you are. The Labour party office in the great Victorian mansion on the…