Archive for December, 2011

December 8, 2011

Back in the day, I attended an Xmas lunch with fellow scribes, Sven Hassel, Alistair MacLean, Enid Blyton, Muggeridge, Arthur Marshall, Iris Murdoch, and of course Kingsley (he’d managed to ‘lose’ the boy in Gamages!). We met at Claridges at noon for cocktails, but by teatime we somehow woke to find ourselves in a brothel in Reykjavik, Enid dancing topless on top of a sideboard, Arthur being sick in a wastepaper basket. Then the partying really started. I didn’t get home until February…

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Blyton Rock

December 2, 2011

I have been recalling the time when there was a mooted collaboration between my good self and Enid Blyton. I can’t remember whose idea it was, but I suspect it started at a raucous dinner party given by my original publisher, Toby Downs-Syndrome, the charming but decadent youngest son of the Earl of Northfields. I had been at school with Toby. We shared a fag, and competed as to who could make his life more of a misery. Toby won, and had to leave the school shortly afterwards, but fortunately his father owned quite a few newspapers so the story never became widespread. And the silly boy’s parents lawsuit was thrown out of court by a High Court Judge (Toby’s uncle). Frankly, the funeral was paid for, what more did they want?

I digress…

Darling Enid – ‘Snid’ as I called her due to my misreading her signature on one of her jolly books – was rather keen to break into the world of adult fiction, which I just wanted to make more money – and the lucrative world of books for kiddies seemed ideal. Well, at this diner party, over the absinthe and caviare, Snid and I got talking, and the frankly bizarre idea of us writing a book together was first postulated.

The details about the story are murky. Initially the idea was that it would involve the Famous Five. I skimmed though some of Snid’s books, an suggested a story in which the Five discover a devilish cult while on one of their interminable holidays. My initial notes required Timmy the dog to be bloodily sacrificed, young Anne to be ravished on a slab by a succubus, the transexual George to be seduced to the dark side by a Russian lesbian (a metaphor for communistic brainwashing, but one the proles could masturbate to), while the two boys, Julian & Dick, are forced to wrestle each other in the nude to win back their sister.

Snid wasn’t happy.

(to be continued)

Modesty forbids…

December 2, 2011

… but my producer insists…

“Be alarmed…
Be really quite alarmed…
Sir Desmond Stirling, world-acclaimed author, patriot, bon viveur, war hero, & great political thinker of our time
offers his loyal readers an exclusive chance to eavesdrop as he writes his latest novel.
Listen as a brand new Satanic chiller spurts forth from the brain of the master story-teller!
Gasp at the horror of it all!
Feel humbled at the enormous privilege you are experiencing!
Wait impatiently for the next exciting instalment!

Who is the mysterious intruder in socialite Marjorie Ashbrook’s bedroom?
Why are there Nazis in Hampstead?
Will playboy and dog-meat heir Simon Tubular-Wells succumb to an act of shame which could shatter his standing in society?
What diabolical & probably foreign mastermind is behind it all?
Can Charles, the tough, but classy aristocrat, rescue his friends and save the world from the dark Satanic forces which threaten to engulf it…
… or will even he forfeit his soul in the War Against Beastliness?

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Twitter @sirdesstirling