Posts Tagged ‘eBooks’

In terms of eBooks, we tend to concentrate on Kindle on the basis that that’s the best place to get a return, but we’ve had people asking us why some of our titles are not available via iTunes.

So the following Theodore Dalrymple eBooks have recently been added to the Apple platform:

Life at the Bottom

Our Culture, What’s Left of It

Not With a Bang but a Whimper

In other news:

Google Books is now a thing:

On Friday, a federal circuit court made clear that Google Books is legal. A three-judge panel on the Second Circuit ruled decisively for the software giant against the Authors Guild, a professional group of published writers which had alleged Google’s scanning of library books and displaying of free “snippets” online violated its members’s copyright.

Maybe we’re missing something, but as long as Google can’t just scan books and give them away (they can’t) then this is probably a good thing? It’s just another way for people to sample your stuff – a free ad, effectively.

I am currently reading David Nobbs‘ memoir, I Didn’t Get Where I Am Today. The older of our two readers will recognise that as the catchphrase of ‘C.J.’, Reggie Perrin’s boss in the 1970s TV series which starred Leonard Rossiter and was created by Nobbs. It’s not as funny as one might expect, but I’m only a third in. His early Army experiences are very Eddy Nugent.

Picking Up The Brass_PUTB full cover jpeg ARRSENot David Nobbs, but a lad quite like him

The other half of Monday Books is currently reading Kate Morton’s The Lake House, which is ‘very good so far’. The thing that struck us both is that it arrived as a hardback, RRP £18.99, a day or two after publication, for £5.99. Astonishingly good value; how can bookshops compete?

An interesting article about the origins of the horror genre.

The Atlantic on the landscape of Gansu.

David Thompson’s brilliant Friday Ephemera series is well worth checking out (and you might bung him a few quid while you’re at it).


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is said, by many, to have been Sir Edward Marshall Hall, KC – a man who mixed professional triumph with personal tragedy.

He saved many people from the noose, and his story – and particularly the story of his cases – is a fascinating one.

It was originally told by Edward Marjoribanks (pronounced Marchbanks), a barrister and Tory politician who shot himself in the chest in 1932, aged 32, after being jilted.

The Great Defender, a fascinating look at life at the Bar in the latter part of the Victorian era, is now available as an eBook, with a foreword by modern-day QC Gary Bell, better known as BBC TV’s Legalizer (and also as Animal QC).

At £1.99 for 160,000-odd words, it’s what you might call a bargain! thegreatdefender_cover-ebook

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The New York Times reports that James Patterson is giving $1 million of his personal fortune to dozens of bookstores.

Alberto Mingardi, of Italy’s Istituto Bruno Leoni (their version of the Adam Smith Institute), believes ‘Patterson is doing something admirable. He has preferences – for the paper book versus the ebook, for the small bookseller vs the large chain – and he is putting his money where his mouth is.’

Though he is interested in the economics:

[C]urrently, he’s given away $267,000 to 54 bookstores. This means that he has donated, on average, a bit less than $5,000 to each bookseller. It is rather unlikely that such a small amount of money helps independent bookstores to thrive in an increasingly difficult market. It’d be more interested to know something on the criteria Patterson is following to give away money to bookstore X instead of bookstore Y. He can do whatever he wants with his money – but I do not really understand how he could have an impact.

$5,000 is obviously better than $0,000. I’ve never read a James Patterson book, perhaps I’ll try one. Maybe (as a cynic points out in the comments below) this is the idea. Personally, I can’t believe that a man as wealthy as Patterson needs any more cash. I’m sure his heart is in the right place. Whether it will achieve anything in the long term, who can say.

After all, even best-selling authors are struggling to make any cash, says The Guardian.

Thomson is not yet broke, but he’s up against it. The story of his garret is a parable of literary life in Britain today. Ever since the credit crunch of 2008 writers have been tightening belts, cutting back and, in extreme cases, staring into an abyss of penury. “Last year,” said novelist Paul Bailey, speaking to the Observer in 2010, “was sheer hell”. Off the record, other writers will freely confide their fears for the future, wondering aloud about how they will make ends meet. Hanif Kureishi, for instance, recently swindled out of his life savings, told me how difficult his life had become.

I went to see 12 Years a Slave the other day, and that does engender a little perspective. I didn’t really enjoy the film, actually, but the book is very good indeed, and at 49p for this e-version is highly recommended. Wish we had thought to stick it out as an eBook!


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…continues to sell well, perhaps because most people who can read are fairly concerned about their child’s education.

Yesterday, Michael Wilshaw, Ofsted’s chief inspector, said teachers were tolerating misbehaviour in some schools, and that lots of children in those schools were really struggling. Given that they tend to come from the poorest backgrounds, this is a tragedy.

Nicky Campbell’s 5 Live phone-in was all about this subject – I only heard a few minutes of it, but it was pretty grim; one chap rang in to say five-year-olds in the school in which his wife teaches were biting, spitting and swearing at all and sundry. ‘That’s no way for a five-year-old to behave,’ said Nicky (inadvertently leaving open the option that it was, perhaps, the way for older pupils to behave).

The Telegraph rang us to get Frank Chalk to write an op-ed page piece for them, but he was busy fighting off horses of teenagers, so they got Adam Pettitt, instead. Pettitt is a former Eton master and now headmaster of Highgate School, whose list of alumni includes various MPs, barons, professors and judges. No-one famous ever went to any of the schools Frank Chalk writes about, but his basic message would probably be the same as Pettitt’s.

Mike Tyson didn’t go to school, much, so couldn’t have disrupted the education of others. Still, he found a way to make something of himself. No-one who likes boxing will ever forget the sheer excitement of watching the young Tyson fight. The way big, tough (relatively speaking) boxers like Trevor Berbick and Michael Spinks folded in front of him was astonishing; in many cases, his bouts were over before a punch was thrown, never mind landed. His defeats of the brave but hopelessly outclassed Frank Bruno, then his own almost unbelievable loss to the journeyman Buster Douglas and the ear-biting horror with Evander Holyfield… there’s enough in the sporting side of his life alone for a fascinating book.

His grimy upbringing, and grimier behaviour outside the ring, and his insane lifestyle, make his autobiography one of the most interesting sports books I’ve ever read, and a firm recommend for Christmas.

He writes (with the assistance of a ghost) like he fought; you don’t end up liking him, or understanding him, but you can’t deny that he has led an extraordinary life. There’s enough there for an entire conference, as they say.

The Guardian wonders if Santa should bring children eReaders this year.

And, as we head to Perth, Geoff Boycott says England’s glory years are over. I don’t know so much; all we need is two new openers (the unfortunate Carberry being good but a bit elderly), a new captain, a new no6 batsman, a new wicket-keeper capable of averaging 40 in Tests, and four new bowlers.

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Macarthur Job’s Air Disaster is now out as a Kindle eBook. It’s a fascinating read, and a joy to have worked on; it required (obviously) almost no editing, but we did do a lot of research to add in a more human side of the story to go with Macarthur’s outstanding technical knowledge and explication.

For instance, one of the chapters tells the story of this tragedy, aboard a then-revolutionary (and British-built) Vickers Viscount flying from Chicago to Toronto.

Trans-Canada Air Lines – now Air Canada – was an early adopter of this four-engined turboprop. In Macarthur’s words, its ‘introduction… to North American skies was nothing less than epoch-making. The whining power of the vibration-free, smooth-running Rolls-Royce Dart engines was unlike anything experienced before in commercial aviation. Gone were the grunting starts of great radial engines, blowing smoke as they burst into life; gone were the lengthy, pre-takeoff engine run-ups, when the whole aircraft would seem to stamp and shudder like some great angry animal. And in cruising flight, at pressurised altitudes, passengers could relax in an environment free from the continual vibration and engine noise levels of the past.’

As ever, there is a price to pay for every great advance. As one of the Canadian Viscounts – CF-TGR – was flying over Flat Rock, Michigan, on the morning of July 9, 1956, the No. 4 propeller broke away from its engine and one of its blades smashed through the passenger section of the cabin, killing a passenger and injuring several others. The pilot managed to land safely.

This is where most of the accounts – including the wiki entry – end. The full story is a much more shocking and moving one.

The passenger was 31-year-old Mary Carolyn Lippert; she was taking her young sons home from a weekend visit to see their father, a junior neurosurgeon at the prestigious Mayo Clinic in Minnesota. The three of them were allocated seats at the front of the aircraft, for Mrs Lippert’s convenience. Unfortunately, this meant she was in the path of the flying propeller when it entered the cabin, and she was decapitated. Her three-year-old, Robbie, was on her lap at the time; his 14-month-old brother, Richard, was by her side.

After a lot of digging, we managed to track down Robbie Lippert and talk to him about the tragedy. He was remarkably unscathed by the experience, even allowing for his age at the time; he put this down to the fact that his father had remarried and that his new ‘mother’ had brought the boys up as her own, while never trying to remove their natural mother from their memories. She was talked about a great deal, and her photograph was always displayed in the house. Here it is, taken shortly before she died, with the endless possibilities of 1950s North America stretching ahead of her:

Lippert Mary Carolyn(Photograph courtesy Mr Robert Lippert)

Theodore Dalrymple’s books continue to sell well – perhaps because he continues to ask important questions, such as this one of Justin Welby and the Church of England:

(D)id the Archbishop himself have a CRB check before he was elevated…?

Here are some links to the Kindle versions of Dalrymple books we’ve published (paper copies are also available in some cases):

Life at the Bottom

Our Culture, What’s Left of It

Anything Goes

Not With a Bang But a Whimper

The Wilder Shores of Marx

Fool or Physician (as Anthony Daniels, being a memoir of his early professional life)

Monrovia Mon Amour

Zanzibar to Timbuktu

If Symptoms Persist (early Spectator columns)

Second Opinion (later Spectator columns)

The Examined Life

So Little Done (the latter has one review, a one star, which is amusing)

And – turning to the entirely trivial – there were times when I honestly never thought I’d see the day again (1977 was the last time), but we are 3-0 up in an Ashes series with one to play. I feel for Ryan Harris and Peter Siddle, who have bowled their hearts out and have been let down by terrible batting. But is 4-0 too much to hope for?

Michael Clarke is still ‘taking the positives’ – the latest one being that the Australians came within 74 runs of beating England at Chester-le-Street – and King Cricket has some further words of consolation:

It’s not all bad news for Australia though. In Rogers, Clarke and Harris, they’ve unearthed some talented young cricketers for the future.

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IT WAS THE trial of the century… an English aristocrat, haughty and proud, stood in the shadow of the noose – brought low by a terrible act of vengeance.
In the dock: Earl Ferrers, a violent, eccentric but hugely-rich landowner, with vast estates, a noble pedigree going back centuries, and an eye for the ladies.
The charge: murder.
Ferrers had had a troubled marriage to his wife, the beautiful Countess Mary. He kept a mistress, by whom he fathered four children, and was a rabble-rousing drunk, much given to violence and cruelty when in his cups.
Some years earlier, Mary had left him, after succeeding in a scandalous suit of separation at the church court in London.
The Earl believed – wrongly – that a servant called John Johnson had helped his wife to escape his clutches.
He had held a simmering grudge against Johnson ever since; on January 18, 1760, this well of resentment overflowed.
He lured the unfortunate man to the study in his grand Hall under a pretext… and then locked the door, forced the terrified man to his knees and shot him.
Johnson died early the next day, despite the best efforts of one of the country’s leading surgeons.
The aristocratic killer was caught by an angry mob of his own tenants, who held him as he fled, half-dressed, for his horse.
Now he was on trial for his life, before the House of Lords.
The cream of London High Society packed the House to watch the case unfold.
Outside, thousands of commoners waited near Tyburn, where a special gallows was being built.
The question on their minds: was Ferrers about to become the last English nobleman to be executed?

InTheShadowOfTheNoose_cover-ebookIn other news, Apple’s eBook pricing court case and some reaction.

And – in the wake of the Lions, and then an Ashes opener that actually left me feeling ill – why does anyone pay to read newspaper sports pages any more, when there are better-written blogs like these out there, f-o-c?

Cricinfo, of course. ‘The stats suggest sloppiness is increasing. As Andy Zaltzman pointed out, the first innings of this Test at Trent Bridge was the third time in the past 18 months that all the England top six had got into double figures but failed to get to 50; it had happened three times in the previous half-century.’

King Cricket: ‘Australia bat all the way down to number 11… Their problem is that they don’t bat all the way up to number one.’

The Old Batsman: ‘Are fast bowlers getting slower?’

And, from the enemy camp, After Grog Blog Cricket.

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Chris Grayling is planning big changes to the English (and Welsh) legal system, among them further cuts to legal aid, and allowing competition for legal aid contracts.

It seems to me that if the State takes upon itself the right to prosecute individuals, and ultimately to remove their liberty, it ought to at least allow a level playing field – that is, it ought to fund the defence, properly.

My sister, a barrister, is up in arms about it all – as are most of her colleagues, including Toby Potts: so much so that she’s written to The Graun about it.

The upshot, she says, is that outside firms like Serco and, oddly, Eddie Stobart will end up running defence work – and that they will be under commercial pressure to get defendants to plead guilty, as the employed lawyers involved will earn the same fee for the firm for a quick guilty plea hearing as they would for a two-day trial.

The Bar does have an image problem. Everyone thinks that barristers are pompous, overpaid, bewigged windbags, and in the case of my sister they are certainly correct*.

Chris Grayling also blames them for a lot of the delays in court. This idea, says my sis, is

breathtaking, particularly from a Minister who bears ultimate responsibility for the delays occasioned to justice daily. I regularly work until 2am or later when in a trial, to ensure that admissions, legal arguments, and editing of statements and interviews, as well as my preparation for witnesses and speeches are ready. I do not ask judges (nor would expect to receive) time for this at Court. I also am regularly left sitting for hours at court mid-trial, case delayed, if not completely adjourned, or jury dismissed. Why? Because the interpreter has again not turned up, on time or at all, or has been discovered, part way through a four-week trial, not to have been interpreting correctly. Or the defendant has not been put on the prison van, or, if he has, he has been brought to X Crown Court from Y prison fifty miles away, via Z, forty miles in the opposite direction. These are not exaggerations. Last year I defended the rape of a five-year-old child, who was made to wait at court for several days whilst an interpreter was persuaded to attend. No one was held to account for this. I could give example after example from personal experience.

It’s almost like there’s a book in it!

Anyway, if you’re interested in stopping this devastation of a legal system copied around the world, you can sign a petition here.

Meanwhile, The Bookseller is still worried about the future of publishing, and eBooks – the future is all about piracy, self-publishing and library lending, apparently.

*Joke. She’s not pompous, or overpaid. As she says, she regularly works through the night on cases – I’ve been at her house while she’s doing so, and it’s quite boring for visitors. On some cases, depending on how they progress, she can earn a per hour rate not far off the minimum wage, out of which she must pay VAT, chambers rent and tax. She is a windbag, though.

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