You might think, especially after my last post, that I'd be in favour of something like the Stop Online Piracy Act that's in danger of being passed into law in the US. After all, anything that helps prevent my books from being stolen has to be a good thing for me, right?

Not so. While the intention might be laudable (and there's every indication that the agenda behind SOPA might not actually be so altruistic), this is the wrong way to address the issue. It writes censorship into the Internet at the basic level. Imagine a day when somebody (probably a spambot) posts a link to pirated content on your blog, or on your Facebook wall. Then imagine that the US government decides that, because you're hosting that link, you're responsible for it and should be punished. Their next step is to block all access to your site. In theory, they could even block all access to Facebook, or force Facebook to get rid of your profile. It's not how the web is supposed to run. In fact, it's ridiculously close to how the web is run, in places like China, where online activity is monitored and heavily censored. SOPA is the first step in making the rest of the world act like that too.

It won't even work. Piratical websites can change their names and locations at short notice. That's all they have to do, if they find they've been walled off from their public. Facebook can't do that. Nor can Twitter. Nor can I.

This is one of the hidden-but-out-in-the-open problems with piracy. It's costing people too much money to ignore. Even if SOPA is defeated, the hunt for a solution won't go away, and the next attempt could have just as many traps for the average web user in it. I suspect there really isn't a legislative way to tackle piracy with any efficiency. All that has a chance of working is restricting demand. SOPA is an attempt to force that to happen, by potentially penalising anybody even remotely implicated in the spread of illegal content. Far better would be for the millions of users who see no harm in downloading the odd movie or book or game for nothing, to stop, before we all end up paying the price.

Whether you make professional use of the Internet, or just come online to read and post stuff, the SOPA bill (and its brother-in-arms PIPA) will hurt you. If you want to read a bit more about the hows and whys, Google make a short and effective summary here. This week's internet blackout by sites like Wikipedia seems to have had an effect on the support for SOPA in the US, which is encouraging. Until the demand for illegal content drops though, the web as we we know it will stay under threat.

I'm still alive. And thirty-seven today. There is a reasonable chance that these two facts together have caused you to lose money, in which case I can only apologise, and advise you that gambling is a fool's recreation.

For my birthday, my mug collection was made complete. Every father should have such a mug. Now I do. There are other things too, including my choice of watch (not yet bought, as I want final approval). There is also Bollinger. Pretty soon, Kirsty and Eva are taking me out for dinner and cocktails, so that's that sorted.

Entirely by coincidence, Cuckoo was given a very nice review in the early hours of this morning (India time). It's from Canada's Wag The Fox, and though it won't be posted to the official book review site until April, you can see it over on Goodreads or Amazon. Go see. It opens with: "When you pick up a book titled Cuckoo, unless you know before opening to page one that it's a horror novel, you are not likely expecting a darkly disturbing and mind-bending freakshow. Then again, maybe you are, and if you are then I'd have to say it's because you're familiar with Richard Wright's work." While this would be a horrible thing to hear if you hadn't been attempting to disturb and bend minds, I more or less was, and so my birthday is all the happier.

Speaking of reviews, horrible or otherwise, if car crashes compel you then go and read this Observer review of Jeff Thackara's Book of Kings. It's a bloodbath, but a well-written one. The nicest thing Phillip Hensher can say about it is that the author is "probably a nice man". The worst thing? It's difficult to choose. Perhaps: "Terrible as Thackara's prose is, it becomes quite unremarkable when set next to his idea of dialogue." Or maybe: "After a while, the incredulous reader starts to play a game: to open the book at random and try and find a tolerable sentence. Save your effort - you will never win. Thackara is always ahead of you, with his uncanny knack for the not-quite-right word and the yer-what turn of phrase." Go and pick your favourite.

You'd think I'd be more sympathetic to the author (having not read the book, I certainly can't judge the review against the novel), but to be honest I'm rather glad for Thackara. The only thing better for a book than hundreds of people buying it, is people talking about it. It's not true that there's no such thing as bad press. Bad press has to be really entertaining and very visible before it can be considered a good thing. This is both. I wish Thackara luck with what will probably be a lucrative career, movie deals and all.

A perfect start to the New Year. Me, this pen, and this pad. Making stories. Long may it continue.

The day hasn't been without some oddness though. Just half an hour ago, a neighbour knocked on the door, looking a little embarrassed. His opening gambit?

"Um. I think I might have accidentally borrowed your car..."

The story behind such a splendid conversational launch point actually diminishes the sensation of bewilderment to far less entertaining levels, and so I'm not going to tell you what it is (except to confirm that the borrowing of a whole car was indeed an accident, and the bottle of liquid apology that accompanied the explanation was unnecessary, though gratefully recieved). I'll leave it to your imagination. If you can concoct a suitable scenario, feel free to post it below. The best one will win... um... the adulation of all those who follow, probably...

Happy New Year!

And the sun goes down in 2011. I'm unwell today, nursing a deeply unhappy stomach, and so not in a particularly celebratory mood. It's the perfect representative way to end a year that hasn't been great for me. Thankfully, the things that have been wrong, and which have kicked at my self-esteem and ambitions, have more or less resolved this month. I don't need resolutions to fix anything, and for that I'm thankful. I can step into 2012 with something like actual optimism.

Of course, 2011 hasn't been a total bust. This year has included jaunts to Nepal, Malaysia, the USA, and the United Arab Emirates. There were island cruises, desert safaris, airborne glimpses of Everest, and overdue in-person introductions to the Shroud Publishing crew, none of which are to be sniffed at.

There were writing achievements too, including the release of a new edition of my novel Cuckoo (which I've just noticed from the sales figures, is selling far more on the B&N Nook than any other format - a bit baffling, but it's good to know that books can still sell without Amazon and the Kindle). Short stories appeared in Kizuna and Wildthyme in Purple, and the English translation of the stage play Polonius was published in paperback more than a decade after being written.

As for next year, I already know there will be short stories in the World's Collider anthology and Shroud Magazine, and (at least) one novel towards the end of the year. More on those soon. I closed last year with nothing due to be published at all - always a scary position to be in - so it's good to know there are already irons in the fire for 2012 (providing they all get into print before the world ends, of course).

As always, thanks for reading along. I'm glad you're out there, and hope you send 2011 off with gusto.

See you next year!

So, how was your Xmas haul? I hope you were gifted with the material possessions you've always dreamed of, and consumed all manner of food and drink with conspicuous excess. My own Xmas dinner was furnished on the lawns of the Imperial Hotel here in Delhi. While over-priced, this nevertheless had the advantage of my not having to go near an oven, which was nice. It also came with raiders. Pariah kites dive bombed the tables for scraps, palm squirrels and crows cavorted among the buffet selection, and Santa gate-crashed on a motorbike. It all made for a memorable afternoon in the sun.

As for conspicuous consumption, the central feature of my own Xmas takings was a gloriously expensive Mont Blanc pen. It's an entirely unnecessary luxury that I in no way need, but have wanted for a couple of years anyway. I'm pretty easy to buy for, once you get the hang of it. If in doubt, lovely things to write on or with will always make me happy.

What of yourself? Anything to make you smile? Statistically, there's a chance that at least some of you walked away with a new Kindle or other ebook reader. If so, allow me to point you in the direction of Cuckoo (links at the bottom of the page), and suggest that it's a perfectly affordable title to help begin your electronic library.

My very favourite gift of the season is the following, received by my wife.

The packaging's proud declaration that the contents are, in fact, BETTER THAN A TOWEL amused me more than it probably had a right to. I have now been around the house and noted many other things that are BETTER THAN A TOWEL, as well as some things which are simply NOT AS GOOD AS A TOWEL. You should make your own list too, because you never know when somebody is going to ask you to make a qualitative judgement on the worth of an object in strict reference to how it compares with a towel. It pays to be prepared.

I can confirm that all of my books are, point for point, BETTER THAN A TOWEL.

I hope you've awoken to gifts aplenty, and are contemplating a lazy, indulgent day with people you love. Thanks for reading along during 2011, and a special thanks to everybody who's taken time to buy and read a book.

Onwards!

Whaddaya mean, where have I been? Where have you been, eh? Answer me that!

Oh all right, mea culpa. Never go to bed on an argument, and all that. It's not even as though I have nothing to say - there's a fair whack of news to impart, truth be told. I'll post a bit more about a few things (Polonius, World's Collider, Cuckoo, Hiram Grange, Iris Wildthyme, and possibly more) in the next day or two. I also have a barrage of emails to send, so if you're waiting for one, it won't be too long.

First though, it's been a sad and crazy time in the Wright household following the death of my mother-in-law Anne. It wasn't a sudden or terribly unexpected demise, as she's been battling Alzheimer's Disease for a while now, a horrible condition marked by an erosion of self and identity that I find genuinely horrific. It's a mercy, given how protracted the disease can be, that it's taken her comparatively quickly. As many of you are aware though, we've been in India for the last couple of years, at arm's length from our families, and when something like this happens you feel it more keenly for the distance. My daughter, who had a very close relationship with her Nana before we left, has been particularly affected (she's doing okay now, but it hit very hard - heartbreaking to see).

Anne's cremation will take place on Friday in her native Glasgow (if you knew her, and might like to attend, drop me a line and I'll send you the details). She's asked for no flowers to be sent. Instead, anybody who wishes to mark her passing is invited to make a donation to MND Scotland (formerly the Scottish Motor Neurone Disease Association), a charity very dear to her heart. Even if you didn't know her, I'd encourage you to make a one off donation to the charity anyway. Like Alzhemer's, MND is incurable, and forces families to watch somebody they love wither away. Charities like this offer support to those families at the very blackest times, as well as the sufferers themselves), and in giving them your money you're doing the most admirably human thing it's possible to do (helping people you might never even meet).

I'm still in India, although my wife has headed back to offer her brothers what help she can running up to the funeral. It wasn't the best of journeys - the timing was such that she landed right in the middle of the terrifically named Hurricane Bawbag, and was stuck on the plane for two hours because they couldn't safely attach an air bridge. After that, she couldn't get her bag back (it was finally sent to her yesterday) because they wouldn't unpack it from the plane on the day. Note to self - when flying into a Bawbag, ensure a change of underwear is in the hand luggage.

Bawbag, though. The Scottish gets their worst storm in over a decade, call it Bawbag, and jeers at it until it goes away, slight shamefaced. I'm proud of you, Scotland.

Finally, I'd like to say a belated hello to Deacon, my newest nephew, who joined his family a little prematurely this month. Circle of life, and all that mawkishness. Welcome aboard, Deacon.

Here's a grab bag of things I haven't mentioned yet, because I was obsessing about other things..

We've just done the Diwali/Halloween/Guy Fawkes fortnight here in India. Eva's absolute favourite time of year, probably because there's only a few nights to wait before the next celebration. Though she'd never admit it, I wouldn't be surprised if it trumps Christmas. Brilliant to see her so lit up. On the downside, this has meant fireworks. Lots of fireworks. Thousands. Diwali is a big firework celebration in India - the festival of lights - and the letting of of fireworks doesn't seem to be confined to one particular day. I love fireworks, but this has been a bit mental. I want things to stop exploding now, please.

My All Hallow's Read giveaway was drawn at the end of October. Congratulations to Anna in Cookham, UK. Your copy is on the way, and I hope you enjoy it. Thanks to everyone else who played.

My  gibberings last week about the publishing industry, and my place in it as a writer, were intended more as a personal reflection than anything else - a chance to rethink, reboot, and seek a way forward. However, with the publishing industry in absolute upheaval at the moment, I'm far from the only writer trying to adjust my expectations and practices to suit the bold new era. Those blogs have become part of a conversation, on and offline, that I've found rejuvenating (and which I suspect will lead to some very exciting things to come). Also joining in the worldwide conversation is my Hiram Grange cohort Kevin Lucia. For his own thoughts on the industry we're both trying to carve our sigil into, I'd start here (a rather bleak entry, verbalising how a lot of us feel, and wondering how to move on). Then go here, and keep reading. I'm name checked, which is nice, but Kevin's setting out a different stall from me. There's a lot of crossover in our thinking, and as he's struggling with many of the same hard truths that I am, I'm finding his own conclusions interesting reading.

I watched the first series of The Killing on DVD recently (the Danish original). Absolutely brilliant, with one of the bleakest endings I've seen on TV (absolutely nobody comes out smiling). In retrospect, it suffers a little from the Inspector Lynley school of detecting, in which the detective goes around accusing everybody until somebody finally confesses in a fit of exasperation, but as whodunnits go it's a lesson on character and plot that I was grateful for. I didn't guess the killer until the penultimate episode, just before they pretty much made it clear. Like Lund (the almost loathable, entirely obsessive investigating officer) I'd also accused most characters at some point during the season, with various degrees of certainty, and been proven wrong.

The list of stores shipping my novel Cuckoo has expanded further. You can now grab it direct for the Kindle, the Nook, iTunes, and Sony Reader. I've also discovered the Book Depository in the UK. As far as I can see, with Amazon stubbonly declaring the paperback of Cuckoo to be unavailable in the UK (this has only been the case because they haven't stocked it), the Book Depository is by far the best place to get a copy. Check it our here. Also note, it ships to a huge number of countries worldwide, including India, completely free of charge. You might have to wait a week or two for it to turn up, but you won't be hit with shipping fees that double the cost of the book. The cover price is £7.95, so if you prefer to do your reading through the medium of dead trees, this is definitely where you should buy from.

If you want a copy in the US, you can of course get it at Amazon. However, you might first want to have a look at Barnes & Noble, where there's a splendid 25% off the cover price. Times are tough - you might as well save what pennies you can.

Finally, with Christmas approaching and joy in your hearts, you may well have your eye on the charity anthology Kizuna (benefiting tsunami orphans in Japan) as the ideal feel-good gift for friends and loved ones. Having just received a copy of the paperback, I can assure you that it doesn't disappoint. However, don't leave it until the last minute to place an order for a copy - as each one is printed to fulfill your order, there's a chance that shipping times will be delayed closer to Christmas, as the printer gets backed up. Go and get it now, and hide it away until the stockings come out. Here's a tempting picture of the book, with some copies of Cuckoo to boot.

You know what you must do.

For those who don't know, All Hallow's Read is an annual book giving tradition, the origins of which historians have traced back to this blog post. Find a scary book that you've enjoyed, and gift it to somebody you know, who hasn't read it, on or before Halloween. That's it. A simple thing, that makes the world a slightly nicer place to be in. Please join in, or Mike Waggoner's book zombie will get you.

I'm giving away a paperback copy of my novel Cuckoo in celebration. For various reasons (including a history of my international packages from India going missing, except those to the UK) I've had to restrict this one to people in the United Kingdom. Other than that though, all you need to do to enter is go to Goodreads, and click a button. Go to it, and happy reading!

Okay then, we're back from Dubai. It was...

Erm. Almost completely soulless and artificial in every respect. Also, ridiculously expensive (a toy town for millionaires). And not finished yet. Huge swathes of Dubai's ambitious construction projects are standing incomplete and neglected, thwarted by the economic downturn.

Oh, (pricey) fun was had, and Eva particularly enjoyed it. We wandered the biggest shopping mall in the world (and the second biggest too), went up the tallest building in the world, bestrode the manmade beaches and the brand new faux ancient Arabian architecture of the hotels. There were parks filled with water, and parks filled with snow. There were proper supermarkets, where proper ingredients could be pulled off the shelf.

There were, in fact, lots of things that you can get in other modern cities, at much less expense.

I'm not complaining too much. It was 'fine', after all. Compared to other expeditions around neighbouring countries though, I'm left with little sense of having discovered somewhere new. It's just like other stuff, but less interesting.

The singular exception was Wednesday, when we went into the desert in 4x4s. Normally, these are the devil's toys, but when hurtling up and down thirty foot sand dunes at ridiculous speeds, you suddenly discover that they do have a place in the world. I loved just being in the desert, and will remember that for a long, long time.

***

While I was in Dubai, this man died. Whether you actually use Apple products or not, this man changed your life. He changed how computers work, what they're for, and how you use them. He changed communications, consumerism, the music industry, and a lot more. It's not wrong to call him a visionary. Worth taking a moment to reflect on that. One man can, and has, changed the world.

***

Also while I was in Dubai, the line up for the forthcoming World's Collider anthology was announced. I'm on it, alongside some top talent. Between us, with editor Richard Salter leading the way, we're going to end the world as you know it. Go and like the Facebook page to keep up to date. As we go along, I'm also planning to blog the progress of this book. Like the Hiram Grange universe, this is effectively a shared world, and I'm looking forward to finding out how the collaboration is going to work. Stay tuned - I'll report back soon, giving you exclusive access to the scandals, the cat fights, and other such behind the scenes chicanery...

***

Finally, I only have 1087 days left until my deadline. I'd better get a move on...