Inspector Montalbano

Last night I sat down to watch the second episode of something we recorded on the Sky box a while ago. It's an unusual choice, a detective programme in Italian with English subtitles. Yes, Inspector Montalbano.

Now I have never really been into European art house movies and watching something with subtitles really means that you have to pay attention. But this programme, shown on BBC4, has had such good reviews that I felt I ought to give it a try. And it has much to commend it, reasonably original plotlines, stunning Sicilian scenery, bad language, lots of dead bodies and gore and, being Italian, plenty of sex!

The star player, Salvo Montalbano himself, is the usual tortured top copper with a past, plenty of neuroses and an eccentric approach. He has an incompetent assistant and glamourous lady friend.  So all the ingredients are there.

I am thoroughly enjoying it, and I can see why it has had such excellent reviews across much of the press. I was tempted to watch it because as a Valentine's gift from The Hubby I was given a book by a new author about a similar Italian detective, but in the books he lives and works in Venice. The style was easy, the plot choc-a-bloc with bodies and the solution solvable. I loved it.

I find it very difficult to branch out of the few things which I know I am going to be entertained by and which I will enjoy. So often literary adaptations disappoint and many of the great crime writers have never been televised, or not much. I can't remember whether I have ever seen a PD James or Ruth Rendell story on the telly (outside of Wexford tales), and it is a constant source of amazement that Lee Child's great creation, the maverick Jack Reacher, has not been either televised or had a movie adaptation made.  Agatha Christie of course, is wall to wall and much of it marvellous, but somewhat dated and not really very gutsy.

I'd like to have a pop at writing a crime novel. I have no shortage of ideas, so perhaps I ought to give it a go and publish it as an e-book. I saw the other day that a woman who wrote a romantic chic-lit book has become the first female self e-published millionnaire, and has now as a result been offered a multi million pound deal by one of the big publishing houses who originally turned her down saying there was no market for that sort of book any more. I suspect the sum involved was so huge she has accepted, but wouldn't it be satisfying to tell the bastards where to go?

However that'll have to be after finishing the two panto scripts I have on the go, finishing the politically incorrect book of common sense advice which, as a self help book, has been half finished for over a year, and continuing with this blog. There isn't enough time in the day!

When I do eventually e-publish something, I will let you know and you can all help me to my first million by buying a copy and acting as my first literary critics. Perhaps that's how I'll get rich and get out of local government! We'll see! Tell you what - if I do, I bet lots more people will want to be my friends!