New2theScene

Alex Pearl

Alex Pearl

Back in the distant mists of time, Alex spent three years at art college in Maidstone; a college that David Hockney once taught at, and later described in a piece for The Sunday Times as the 'most miserable' episode of his life. Here, Alex was responsible for producing - among other things - the college's first theatrical production in which the lead character accidentally caught fire. Following college, he found employment in the advertising industry as a copywriter. He has turned to writing fiction in the twilight years of his writing career.

His novella,_ Sleeping with the Blackbirds_ - a black, comic urban fantasy, was initially written for his children in 2011 and published by PenPress. In 2018 it was longlisted for the _Millennium Book Awards _and was selected the following year by The Indie Author Project to be distributed to public libraries across the US and Canada. It has since become a Kindle bestseller in the US.

In 2014 his short story, _Scared to Death _- the fictionalised account of the first British serviceman to be executed for cowardice during the First World War, was published in an anthology (The Clock Struck War) by Mardibooks along with 22 other short stories to mark the centenary of the Great War.

In 2015, his eclectic collection of blog posts appeared in paperback under the title Random Ramblings of a short-sighted Blogger.

Alex's psychological thriller, The Chair Man set in London following the terrorist attack in 2005 was published as an e-book by Fizgig Press in 2019 and as a paperback in 2020. It is his first full-length novel, and was a Finalist in the 2021 Wishing Shelf Book Awards.

During the Covid epidemic, Alex conducted 100 author interviews on the net and published them in book form under the title 100 Ways to Write a Book in which he explores authors' backgrounds, motivations, and working methods. All author proceeds go to PEN International.

In 2022, he published his second full-length novel,_ A Brand to Die For,_ a comic murder mystery set in the advertising world of 1983.

Alex's claim to fame is that he is quite possibly the only person on this planet to have been inadvertently locked in a record shop on Christmas Eve.

When they spoke to New2theScene

**1. Why do you write novels?  **

Before sitting down to answer this question, I made myself a coffee and came back to my office to find Zelda, the family cat sitting on my desk. She'd spent the best part of the evening having a very loud argument with a local fox and keeping my wife and I awake for hours. She was now guarding my computer against unwanted intruders and had, in fact, taken the trouble to begin answering your first question with an unintelligible string of characters, mostly Js, with no spaces or punctuation. In a roundabout kind of way, this begins to answer your question. You see, I can't help telling stories of one kind or another. For well over 30 years I was paid to tell stories for advertising agencies. I was a copywriter tasked with the job of conveying engaging brand stories to both loyal and potential customers. Over the years I'd written about pretty much every conceivable kind of product or service - everything from fizzy drinks, cosmetics and alcohol to motor cars, computers, and financial services. Advertising is I think a pretty good discipline for writers and film directors because it disciplines you to tell stories in a very short form – whether that be a press advertisement where you only have say a maximum of 200 words to play with or a TV commercial that is no longer than 30 seconds. The great late Alan Parker used to explain this much more eloquently than me.

This is all very well, I hear you say. But writing long stories in the form of fiction is very different, isn't it? Well, yes and no. Yes, of course, it is a much more taxing and time-consuming task that will employ far, far more words – about 90,000 more on average. And it will require far more plotting, structuring, character building, scene setting and so on. But my contention is that if you can tell a compelling story about a brand that people will want to read, then you can probably tell a story about virtually anything. And the same can be said in reverse. If you can write brilliant fiction, you'll be able to write a brilliant advertisement. And by way of an example, back in the mid-1980s, the agency I was working for asked the novelist Beryl Bainbridge to write an advertisement for real fires. Not only was it brilliant but it won the most prestigious advertising award (a D&AD Silver award) that year for the Best Written Press Advertisement that had appeared in any publication.

So when I retired from writing stories for brands, it only felt natural to have a go at writing longer stories for an altogether fussier kind of client – me. There is I think something cathartic about writing in general and writing fiction in particular. Some writers say that they also like the feeling of playing God and giving birth to a whole universe of characters and situations. And I think there is some truth in that. But I think it's also true to say that most novelists will tell you 'I didn't choose to write. Writing chose me.' In other words, it was inevitable and required very little conscious reasoning or soul searching. It just happened as naturally and inevitably as night follows day.

2. Who inspired you?

Clive King would have been the first writer to have inspired me. His children's book Stig of the Dump was the first book I read as a child, and although I wasn't a prolific reader by any stretch of the imagination, it was an important book because it beautifully demonstrates the power and imagination of a terrific story. And it tackles big universal themes like friendship, trust, and guilt.

Later on, at school, I had an inspirational teacher for English O level who was able to teach us the power of words through unconventional teaching methods in which everything was turned upside down. Strangely enough, his name was also Clive – Clive Lawton. On one occasion instead of marking our essays, we had to mark his old essays. How brilliant and thought-provoking is that?

And then when I took a job as a copywriter, my first creative director was a brilliant and funny writer with two English degrees from Oxford University. His name was Ken Mullen and among other things, he introduced me to the brilliance of Mervyn Peake and his Gormenghast masterpiece. Ken is also the only advertising copywriter to be quoted in the Penguin Book of Modern Quotations.

Some years later, another copywriter by the name of David Vickery would often share his science fiction short stories, which were beautifully penned and would regularly win prizes. David was a lovely, unassuming and funny friend who would frequently urge me to write fiction. It would take some years before I did. It happened following a writing workshop organised by one of my clients – Orange the telecommunications company that eventually became EE.

It was a three-day workshop run by John Simmonds who occasionally writes for The Guardian among other publications. The culmination of the workshop was to present a personal piece of writing about an inanimate object that had some kind of significance and emotional resonance. I don't think I've ever experienced such an emotionally charged atmosphere in which the most extraordinary and powerful pieces of writing were shared one after the other. I don't think there were any dry eyes in the house. My piece was about a paperweight that I had inherited from my grandma when she died. It had been purchased by my grandfather who had died some years before I was born. For countless years I had been led to believe that he had died from asthma, but only weeks before writing the piece, I had learnt from my mother who was suffering from dementia, that he had in fact taken his own life following a bout of depression. I remember sharing the piece later with David who was very complimentary and liked the way the piece was structured and unravelled. It was sadly the only piece of creative writing I ever shared with him. He died very tragically and unexpectedly some weeks afterwards.

The advertising world, of course, is peppered with great writers, some of whom left the industry to write novels. The late Fay Wheldon, Salman Rushdie, and Peter Mayle to name just three. David Abbott who is considered one of the UK’s finest copywriters, penned a beautiful novel when he retired. The Upright Piano Player is well worth reading.

To be surrounded by good writers at work is pretty inspirational in itself. I should add here that truly great writers inside ad agencies aren’t always copywriters. Adam Leigh who was the managing director of one of the last agencies I worked for is a case in point. His debut novel The Curious Rise of Alex Lazarus is a gem of a book, and his second is in the pipeline.

**3. What’s the essence of your style? The part, if removed, is not your voice anymore?  **

That's a really difficult question to answer. As a copywriter, you adopt a style of language that suits your audience. So, for example, you wouldn't write an ad for a soft drink in the same tone of voice you'd adopt to write an ad for a single malt whisky, or for that matter, an investment trust. Similarly, when it comes to fiction, your style of writing will be determined by the reader. So my first book written for children is in a style redolent of writers like Richmal Crompton and Clive King. My second book is a gritty terrorist thriller. The style is obviously very different. But what I try to do with all my storytelling is to keep my sentences reasonably uncluttered and simply structured. I don't like unwieldy, long lines. And I don't go in for overly-descriptive writing. In this respect, the best lesson in brevity can be learnt by reading George Orwell. His writing is beautiful and concise. There are no spare words. Animal Farm is perhaps his best example. Style aside, I think one of the traits I'd like people to pick up is my love of humour. So having written a children's urban fantasy, a dark thriller, and a murder mystery, I think it’s fair to say that humour can be detected in all of them, even the darkest.

4. What was your dance-around-the-kitchen moment in writing?

I generally avoid dancing of any description as I have two left feet. But I was chuffed when my first book, Sleeping with the Blackbirds, was selected by the Indie Author Project, which recommends indie books to libraries across the US and Canada.

5. What do you want to accomplish in your writing career?

More than anything, I’d like my writing to resonate with readers. Of course, it would be nice to sell in large numbers. But I’d far rather have modest success with books that are well-received than have books that hit the jackpot but are subsequently the subjects of derision. Without naming names, I think we know the kind of titles I’m referring to. To me, that would be a nightmare. I wouldn’t be happy to take the money and run. I’d feel a complete fraud. Perhaps I’m stupid, but that’s just the way I feel. Perhaps there’s also a book in that idea . . .

6. Can you ever envisage not writing novels - running out of ideas or energy?

I must admit that plotting a novel doesn't come easily to me. It’s by far the most challenging part of the writing process as far as I’m concerned. And I sometimes think that it’s something of a miracle that I’ve managed to write three. So the fear of drying up is something that does lurk in the back of my head. And it’s a fear that afflicts many copywriters, too - particularly when deadlines are looming. But I take heart when hearing of writers who are still able to churn out well-honed prose well into their 90s. During Covid, I interviewed over 100 authors and published them in book form (100 ways to Write a Book). One of the authors was a Holocaust survivor by the name of Janina David. Her autobiography A Square of Sky was a massive international bestseller in 1964 and was made into a TV series in Germany. At the age of 92, she is still writing and getting published. So there’s hope for us all.

7. What advice would you give to your younger self?

I think I’d urge my younger self to write fiction earlier, and not wait until I had retired. In my defence, it wasn’t so easy to self-publish back then. But that shouldn’t have stopped me. We are all lazy by inclination. I think there are probably many people I have known who could have written a terrific novel standing on their head - but never have. As the Nike ad says, sometimes we need to just do it.

8. Away from writing, what are your passions, and what do they mean to you?

I love music - classical and jazz primarily but not solely, and often go to lunchtime recitals of which there are plenty in London. In fact, anyone who has read The Chair Man will be amused to learn that a character in one of the scenes who is scoffing mackerel sandwiches before a recital in St James Church Piccadilly is in fact based on my good self. I suppose that is the literary equivalent of Hitchcock planting himself surreptitiously into his own movies. Music for me is another form of expressive language - an international language that knows no borders. One that can lift the spirits and be both contemplative and relaxing.

This neatly leads me on to my other great passion, cinema. My favourite cinema is The Phoenix in East Finchley close to where we live. It’s the oldest cinema in London and opened its doors back in 1912. In fact, its first film was a newsreel about the sinking of the Titanic. Sitting in that cinema with my wife and a large box of popcorn is my idea of heaven on earth.

Food and cooking also fill an important place. I do all the cooking at home and although my repertoire may be limited, I do enjoy it. I’m a great lover of fish and teriyaki salmon remains a firm favourite closely followed by tuna steak lightly seared with olive oil, lemon juice and herbs. Food, of course, is always associated with great company and conversation, and is particularly enjoyable when in the warmer months we can have family and friends over and eat al fresco in the garden.

Then, of course, there’s reading. I have so many books to read and am usually reading several at once. Currently, I’m reading Ronald Hutton's brilliant portrait of Oliver Cromwell; Samvida and The Purse of Gold by Paterson Loarn; and David Copperfield by Charles Dickens. Next on the list are the Blandings novels by P. G. Wodehouse and Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens.

Finally, there’s gardening. I’m no expert, but you don’t really have to be to plant stuff and enjoy seeing the results.

9. How would your best friend describe you?

I can’t speak for them. But they might say I’m mild-mannered, fairly liberal, and pretty laid-back. They may also say I’m disorganised, not particularly well dressed, and have an appalling sense of direction. Some may say I have a good sense of humour. But there again, my wife and kids will probably say that I tell the worst possible jokes LOL.

10. What’s a significant question to ask you, that no other interview has to date, and what’s the answer, only for New2theScene?

No one has ever asked me what my pet hates are. So here goes. In no particular order: muzak in lifts and public places (Spike Milligan once wrote a brilliant letter to The Times about it); dentists who insist on asking you questions while prodding around inside your mouth; inane commercials that make no sense (there seem to more of them today than there ever were); cars that park in disabled bays without blue badges (I came across one recently that was a fancy sports car with the number plate Dick1 - enough said); political correctness and the attempt to rewrite literature (if you take all the contentious and barbed stuff out of literature, you just make it bland); and condescending politicians who don’t answer questions.

And in order to end on a more positive note, I will include another question I haven’t yet been asked, which is to name my five favourite films. So in no particular order, here goes: Citizen Kane; It’s a Wonderful Life; Kind Hearts and Coronets; Schindler’s List; and On the Waterfront.

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A Brand To Die For

WORKING IN ADVERTISING CAN BE MURDER - LITERALLY.

It’s 1983. Margaret Thatcher has been waging war on the Argentinians in the Falkland Islands. The miners are about to wage war on Margaret Thatcher. And Angus Lovejoy, once sent down from Charterhouse for shagging the Chancellor's daughter in the cricket pavilion, has now landed a job as a copywriter at London adland’s creative hot shop Gordon Deedes Rutter where he is teamed up with art director Brian Finkle whose neurotic Jewish parents are the bane of his life. The two are an unlikely duo, but their mischievous and sardonic take on the world makes them a brilliant creative team. Everything goes swimmingly until a bizarre and mysterious murder rocks the world of Gordon Deedes Rutter and ripples out into the national media.

While the dearth of evidence leaves the police baffled, Lovejoy and Finkle take it upon themselves to apply their creative brains to solve the mystery, and in so doing, inadvertently get themselves into particularly deep water.

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