Richard Johnson 🔖answers thirteen questions in Booker's Dozen. 


TPQ: What are you currently reading?

RJ: I am currently reading a George Carlin autobiography called Last Words. Like most (not all) horror fare with my film viewing, I generally go to autobiographies/ biographies to give my brain a rest since they’re broadly easy to digest. I have quite a number of such books due to my interests in music, especially punk/post-punk, but have a modest collection forming of (auto)biographies by others from the realms of (stand-up) comedy, film, art and literature. I think I long ago exhausted all of the late, great Carlin’s live shows and interviews available online (although those later specials of his command repeat viewing and I’ll never tire of them), so started discussing his books with a friend earlier this year. This is the first of his I picked up. I’m only a third in and really enjoying it, anyway. I like to know the backstory to people whose work I’m interested in, to see what informed them to do what it is they do and maybe pick up a lead to another source or two to explore. I also like those stories whereby somebody simply stuck to their guns and got a break either because of that or perhaps, in some cases, in spite of that. Such accounts can provide hope, I guess, to those looking for it.

TPQ: Best and worst books you have ever read?

RJ: To select the best books means casting the net far and wide over those I read as a kid or teenager that moved me to the countless I’ve read as an adult now ambling along his middle years which have done likewise. My interests have broadened as I got older, though. I mostly read non-fiction these days, but still keep my hand in with fiction once in a while. I always buy books and must have a stack of fiction still waiting to be read as well (he writes, glancing over at the Pynchon, Mann and even an Arthur Machen collection now covered in dust so thick it could tell its own stories). 

However, to answer the question means referring to the point just made. As a teenager, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, William Golding’s Lord of the Flies, H.G. Wells’ War of the Worlds, Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray, Robert Louis Stevenson’s The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and even Stephen King’s The Shining made an indelible impression. I was a regular at both the local and school libraries, but also bought books when able to afford them. 

Moving towards adulthood now, and carefully sidestepping the dalliances with the likes of W.S. Burroughs, Henry Miller and Jack Kerouac when in my 20s, my favourite works of fiction include Michel Houellebecq’s Atomised, Joris-Karl Huysman's Against Nature, Saul Bellow’s Dangling Man, Samuel Beckett’s Malone Dies, Dostoyevsky’s Notes from the Underground, Thomas Bernhard’s The Loser, Leonard Cohen’s Beautiful Losers and Jerzy Kosinski’s Steps, but, again, my net must be cast wide. Jorge Luis Borges’ short story, The Library of Babel, had a profound effect.

I’ve also enjoyed works by Ellroy, Camus, Kafka, Iain Banks, Nabokov, Bruno Schulz, Ian McEwan, Bataille, de Sade, Pynchon, Sartre and Irvine Welsh, too, so quite a variety. I likewise still have a soft spot for some pulp horror fiction. Otherwise, plenty of non-fiction stands out. I really enjoy Desmond Morris’ books, plus always loved most of Christopher Hitchens’ work, but right now am on a Douglas Murray trip. I don’t agree with everything he says, but he puts up solid arguments for his corner and I’m all for learning about different narratives or perspectives right now. I think it’d help if we were all like this. A standout non-fiction book has to be Viktor E. Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning, though. Highly recommended to all those who find the malaise of modern living ‘too much’. I also gained a lot from Stanislavski’s An Actor Prepares a friend recommended many years ago. It helped me realise the stoic path is the only way forward, but the far more popular Derren Brown likewise makes a great case for this with his books. Oh, and the works of Bertrand Russell I’ve also read have been pivotal. As indeed has Jonathan Haidt’s The Righteous Mind, Susan Blackmore’s The Meme Machine and Richard Dawkins’ The Selfish Gene.

When, again, in my 20s, I read plenty of books on true crime and serial killers. I rarely dabble in any of that fare these days, but Brian Masters’ Killing for Company: The Story of a Man Addicted to Murder about London’s serial killer Dennis Nilsen remains particularly memorable. One of my two brothers became a prison officer in the 1980s and encountered Nilsen at Parkhurst, funnily enough.

Regarding the ‘worst’ books, I think I’m fortunate in that I’ve only really read books that are at least interesting to me. Like everybody, I had to read literature at school that meant little to me, but would I deem Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice the worst? Not especially. It just wasn’t for me. I have read a few books by people connected to my music world that are terribly written, however. Again, are they the ‘worst’, though? Not really. They’re just written in a way that makes Bukowski seem high-brow by comparison. On a similar trajectory, I recently read a book by an early Adam & the Ants’ fan (I picked the book up in the belief it would be more about the group in their punk years, but was unfortunately mistaken) and it was also written badly, but I appreciated the enthusiasm at least. I am an old fanzine writer/editor, so my own early efforts were not too great (and maybe still aren’t!). It would additionally be too easy to take a swing at all those more populist works and writers here, but we understand their appeal and why people crave them. I can read trash, as illustrated. If a book’s that ‘bad’, don’t read it. I apply this stance to all of my interests.

TPQ: Book most cherished as a child?

RJ: Well, that depends, really. My childhood was ravaged by divorcing parents and then living with two brothers and a single mum struggling to get by until she remarried when I was 11 or 12. Until that age, I guess my favourite books would have been on dinosaurs and sharks, generally, but I always had a soft spot for Roald Dahl’s stories and, perhaps more significantly, the Horror Movies book by Denis Gifford. If I’m perfectly honest, the latter would have been my most cherished book simply because it led to far more new worlds. I loved horror films and the fact my mum and, later, stepdad actively discouraged me from staying up late to watch them only added to their appeal. Indirectly, they took me to punk music as well. As constricting as that could be, this was an important stepping stone to where I am now.

TPQ: Favourite Childhood author?

RJ: Roald Dahl. No contest, really. A fantastic imagination imbued with just the right amount of darkness and unease to help prepare young folk for the harsh realities of the adult world. As a kid, I also read some Jules Verne, but am not sure how well that stuff holds up now.

TPQ: First book to really own you?

RJ: A difficult question, really. I never felt ‘owned’ by any book in particular, but as much as I loved everything behind Frankenstein when young, the first book to truly inspire me would have to be Lord of the Flies. It says everything one needs to know about human nature. I love the symbolism and the notions of ‘freedom’ explored by the previously ’trapped’ boarding school boys once they’re on this remote and apparently deserted island. I feel this book was instrumental in my developing a sense of scepticism about our species. It’s a great piece of literature perfect for any teenager with a questioning mind. I enjoyed going through it again only last year in several literature lessons with a teenage Russian student, actually. I also think it’s another book various education authorities have tried banning over the years due to much of its content, which frankly is another reason to read it. The idea of ‘banning’ a book, film, music or piece of art remains completely preposterous to me.


TPQ: Favourite male and female author?

RJ: Michel Houellebecq and Andrea Dworkin. This might change tomorrow, however. I have to say that most books I own seem to have been written by males, though.

TPQ: A preference for fact or fiction?

RJ: I enjoy both. It’s good to see the imagination cascading into all manner of places in fiction. There’s an art to either a good story or captivating narrative that prises out the mind’s innermost machinery to impart something the reader might savour or identify with. I feel the best works of fiction often have something to say about the human condition or the time they were written in. Accordingly, we can learn from them. The same can, of course, be said of non-fiction but one must factor in the author’s bias and the amount of research, too. Max Hastings’ books on the two world wars prove how the conjoining of multiple sources from all sides and the contrasting perspectives of those in the military and governments, as well as ordinary citizens, can make for invaluable reading on the subjects. As noted earlier, in more recent years I’ve been reading Douglas Murray’s books and have developed an interest in the work of other such social commentators whose reach may traverse all from identity politics and freedom of speech to geopolitics. Naturally, the authors of these books have their own biases and agendas, but I’ve long been interested in how the media and social media now inform so much of our world. I’m interested in the psychological aspects of this. Again, I don’t necessarily agree with everything read, but I derive a lot of pleasure from challenging my own (sometimes misguided) sensibilities. I think it helps to broaden one’s outlook.

TPQ: Biography, autobiography or memoir that most impressed you?

RJ: A tough one as I read quite a lot of such books related to music mostly from the worlds of punk/post-punk, industrial or electronics. Most are pretty throwaway, but I still enjoy them regardless. Peter Hook of New Order’s books have stood out in this respect, as he simply has a knack for spinning tales of what he and his bandmates got up to in the past. Certainly more fun than what’s depicted of Penny Rimbaud and Dial House in The Story of Crass, even if any story of rock ’n’ roll excess sounds to me like a warning signal rather than lifestyle advice. I’ve also read other biographies and memoirs, of course, as said before, but two really stand out for me. The first is Chris Rodley’s Lynch on Lynch, published in the late ’90s, collecting a series of interviews conducted with the film director, and the second would have to be Alan Licht’s Will Oldham on Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy. I have a lot of time for Lynch’s work and the book helps shine a light onto the mind behind it without compromising its mystique and integrity. The Licht book is just how I feel a music biography/memoir ‘should’ be. I’m not even a hardcore fan of Will Oldham’s work, only possessing several albums, but I found the long-form conversational approach with him in this book utterly engaging.

Away from music or films, I enjoyed the Alexander McQueen biography a lot as well, plus thought Dan Davies’ Jimmy Saville biography/expose, In Plain Sight: The Life and Lies of Jimmy Saville, said as much about certain institutions we’re led to believe in as the late public figure and his nefarious antics himself.

TPQ: Any author or book you point blank refuse to read?

RJ: I don’t think there’s anything I’d ‘refuse’ to read. That suggests indignation on my part. As much as I will avoid anything that’s of little interest to me, I feel I’d still read something of that nature if accorded no other choice. I’m not closed to anything and would prefer to read than not read, even if there’d be nothing to gain beyond forming another opinion, ultimately.

TPQ: A book to share with somebody so that they would more fully understand you?

RJ: The presently unwritten one in my head might go some way to help, although I’m not convinced anybody can “fully understand” another person. I feel we die not fully understanding ourselves, even. To fully understand would be to put a full stop on the process of experiencing, learning, gaining knowledge and so on we embark on as we make our way through the murky waters of life, wouldn’t it? My entire book collection only points to some of this.


TPQ: Last book you gave as a present?

RJ: I love giving books as presents. I bought my mum two books on Berlin for her birthday as she loves the place so much she keeps saying how much she wishes she was younger and could move there. I think I’d have then enjoyed getting some of my weirdo avant-garde musician friends who reside there to check in on her and my stepdad! I also bought my wife a coffee table book of Hilma af Klint prints for her birthday, plus when I was in England just recently I picked up some Mr. Men books for our daughter, although at less than a year old it’ll be a while yet before she gets to them. I also got my youngest son a book he wanted on some Japanese art, but I’ve forgotten what it was exactly. He wanted a Pynchon book for Christmas as well, so I’m pleased about that.

TPQ: Book you would most like to see turned into a movie?

RJ: Most film adaptations of books are pretty disastrous, but I really like Werner Herzog’s Aguirre, the Wrath of God and its being loosely based on Joseph Conrad’s excellent Heart of Darkness. Conversely, I have a soft spot for Terry Gilliam’s adaptation of Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas, too. David Cronenberg’s Naked Lunch underlines my initial point, though. Equally, the film adaptations of J.G. Ballard’s Crash and High Rise by, respectively, Cronenberg (again!) and Ben Wheatley didn’t translate too well to the screen, despite the generally reliable hands of both directors. I also liked the adaptation of Brett Easton Ellis’ American Psycho by Mary Harron. Anyway, to answer the question, I always thought Clive Barker’s short story, In the Hills, the Cities, would make for an incredible horror/fantasy film with a cerebral edge. Most Clive Barker adaptations have been pretty tragic affairs, but I think a director such as Guillermo del Toro could do wonders with this story. I’m not sure it’s something I’d ‘most’ like to see, but this short story especially resonated from the fantastic Books of Blood collections.

TPQ: The just must - select one book you simply have to read before you close the final page on life.

RJ: This is another question I cannot really answer. I buy books constantly, despite not having the time spare to keep up with all of them. Precisely because of this, in more recent years I’ve been saying it’ll be better to die with piles of unread books nestled amongst those I have got to over the years because it probably says more about me than anything else. I’d like to devour all the unread books I have piled up here before I go, but this will never happen because I’m forever adding to them. I really hope to get to Public Enemies by Michel Houellebecq and Bernard-Henri Levy ’soon’, however.

Richard Johnson runs Fourth Dimension Records and is the author of Grudge For Life.

Booker's Dozen @ Richard Johnson

Richard Johnson 🔖answers thirteen questions in Booker's Dozen. 


TPQ: What are you currently reading?

RJ: I am currently reading a George Carlin autobiography called Last Words. Like most (not all) horror fare with my film viewing, I generally go to autobiographies/ biographies to give my brain a rest since they’re broadly easy to digest. I have quite a number of such books due to my interests in music, especially punk/post-punk, but have a modest collection forming of (auto)biographies by others from the realms of (stand-up) comedy, film, art and literature. I think I long ago exhausted all of the late, great Carlin’s live shows and interviews available online (although those later specials of his command repeat viewing and I’ll never tire of them), so started discussing his books with a friend earlier this year. This is the first of his I picked up. I’m only a third in and really enjoying it, anyway. I like to know the backstory to people whose work I’m interested in, to see what informed them to do what it is they do and maybe pick up a lead to another source or two to explore. I also like those stories whereby somebody simply stuck to their guns and got a break either because of that or perhaps, in some cases, in spite of that. Such accounts can provide hope, I guess, to those looking for it.

TPQ: Best and worst books you have ever read?

RJ: To select the best books means casting the net far and wide over those I read as a kid or teenager that moved me to the countless I’ve read as an adult now ambling along his middle years which have done likewise. My interests have broadened as I got older, though. I mostly read non-fiction these days, but still keep my hand in with fiction once in a while. I always buy books and must have a stack of fiction still waiting to be read as well (he writes, glancing over at the Pynchon, Mann and even an Arthur Machen collection now covered in dust so thick it could tell its own stories). 

However, to answer the question means referring to the point just made. As a teenager, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, William Golding’s Lord of the Flies, H.G. Wells’ War of the Worlds, Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray, Robert Louis Stevenson’s The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and even Stephen King’s The Shining made an indelible impression. I was a regular at both the local and school libraries, but also bought books when able to afford them. 

Moving towards adulthood now, and carefully sidestepping the dalliances with the likes of W.S. Burroughs, Henry Miller and Jack Kerouac when in my 20s, my favourite works of fiction include Michel Houellebecq’s Atomised, Joris-Karl Huysman's Against Nature, Saul Bellow’s Dangling Man, Samuel Beckett’s Malone Dies, Dostoyevsky’s Notes from the Underground, Thomas Bernhard’s The Loser, Leonard Cohen’s Beautiful Losers and Jerzy Kosinski’s Steps, but, again, my net must be cast wide. Jorge Luis Borges’ short story, The Library of Babel, had a profound effect.

I’ve also enjoyed works by Ellroy, Camus, Kafka, Iain Banks, Nabokov, Bruno Schulz, Ian McEwan, Bataille, de Sade, Pynchon, Sartre and Irvine Welsh, too, so quite a variety. I likewise still have a soft spot for some pulp horror fiction. Otherwise, plenty of non-fiction stands out. I really enjoy Desmond Morris’ books, plus always loved most of Christopher Hitchens’ work, but right now am on a Douglas Murray trip. I don’t agree with everything he says, but he puts up solid arguments for his corner and I’m all for learning about different narratives or perspectives right now. I think it’d help if we were all like this. A standout non-fiction book has to be Viktor E. Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning, though. Highly recommended to all those who find the malaise of modern living ‘too much’. I also gained a lot from Stanislavski’s An Actor Prepares a friend recommended many years ago. It helped me realise the stoic path is the only way forward, but the far more popular Derren Brown likewise makes a great case for this with his books. Oh, and the works of Bertrand Russell I’ve also read have been pivotal. As indeed has Jonathan Haidt’s The Righteous Mind, Susan Blackmore’s The Meme Machine and Richard Dawkins’ The Selfish Gene.

When, again, in my 20s, I read plenty of books on true crime and serial killers. I rarely dabble in any of that fare these days, but Brian Masters’ Killing for Company: The Story of a Man Addicted to Murder about London’s serial killer Dennis Nilsen remains particularly memorable. One of my two brothers became a prison officer in the 1980s and encountered Nilsen at Parkhurst, funnily enough.

Regarding the ‘worst’ books, I think I’m fortunate in that I’ve only really read books that are at least interesting to me. Like everybody, I had to read literature at school that meant little to me, but would I deem Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice the worst? Not especially. It just wasn’t for me. I have read a few books by people connected to my music world that are terribly written, however. Again, are they the ‘worst’, though? Not really. They’re just written in a way that makes Bukowski seem high-brow by comparison. On a similar trajectory, I recently read a book by an early Adam & the Ants’ fan (I picked the book up in the belief it would be more about the group in their punk years, but was unfortunately mistaken) and it was also written badly, but I appreciated the enthusiasm at least. I am an old fanzine writer/editor, so my own early efforts were not too great (and maybe still aren’t!). It would additionally be too easy to take a swing at all those more populist works and writers here, but we understand their appeal and why people crave them. I can read trash, as illustrated. If a book’s that ‘bad’, don’t read it. I apply this stance to all of my interests.

TPQ: Book most cherished as a child?

RJ: Well, that depends, really. My childhood was ravaged by divorcing parents and then living with two brothers and a single mum struggling to get by until she remarried when I was 11 or 12. Until that age, I guess my favourite books would have been on dinosaurs and sharks, generally, but I always had a soft spot for Roald Dahl’s stories and, perhaps more significantly, the Horror Movies book by Denis Gifford. If I’m perfectly honest, the latter would have been my most cherished book simply because it led to far more new worlds. I loved horror films and the fact my mum and, later, stepdad actively discouraged me from staying up late to watch them only added to their appeal. Indirectly, they took me to punk music as well. As constricting as that could be, this was an important stepping stone to where I am now.

TPQ: Favourite Childhood author?

RJ: Roald Dahl. No contest, really. A fantastic imagination imbued with just the right amount of darkness and unease to help prepare young folk for the harsh realities of the adult world. As a kid, I also read some Jules Verne, but am not sure how well that stuff holds up now.

TPQ: First book to really own you?

RJ: A difficult question, really. I never felt ‘owned’ by any book in particular, but as much as I loved everything behind Frankenstein when young, the first book to truly inspire me would have to be Lord of the Flies. It says everything one needs to know about human nature. I love the symbolism and the notions of ‘freedom’ explored by the previously ’trapped’ boarding school boys once they’re on this remote and apparently deserted island. I feel this book was instrumental in my developing a sense of scepticism about our species. It’s a great piece of literature perfect for any teenager with a questioning mind. I enjoyed going through it again only last year in several literature lessons with a teenage Russian student, actually. I also think it’s another book various education authorities have tried banning over the years due to much of its content, which frankly is another reason to read it. The idea of ‘banning’ a book, film, music or piece of art remains completely preposterous to me.


TPQ: Favourite male and female author?

RJ: Michel Houellebecq and Andrea Dworkin. This might change tomorrow, however. I have to say that most books I own seem to have been written by males, though.

TPQ: A preference for fact or fiction?

RJ: I enjoy both. It’s good to see the imagination cascading into all manner of places in fiction. There’s an art to either a good story or captivating narrative that prises out the mind’s innermost machinery to impart something the reader might savour or identify with. I feel the best works of fiction often have something to say about the human condition or the time they were written in. Accordingly, we can learn from them. The same can, of course, be said of non-fiction but one must factor in the author’s bias and the amount of research, too. Max Hastings’ books on the two world wars prove how the conjoining of multiple sources from all sides and the contrasting perspectives of those in the military and governments, as well as ordinary citizens, can make for invaluable reading on the subjects. As noted earlier, in more recent years I’ve been reading Douglas Murray’s books and have developed an interest in the work of other such social commentators whose reach may traverse all from identity politics and freedom of speech to geopolitics. Naturally, the authors of these books have their own biases and agendas, but I’ve long been interested in how the media and social media now inform so much of our world. I’m interested in the psychological aspects of this. Again, I don’t necessarily agree with everything read, but I derive a lot of pleasure from challenging my own (sometimes misguided) sensibilities. I think it helps to broaden one’s outlook.

TPQ: Biography, autobiography or memoir that most impressed you?

RJ: A tough one as I read quite a lot of such books related to music mostly from the worlds of punk/post-punk, industrial or electronics. Most are pretty throwaway, but I still enjoy them regardless. Peter Hook of New Order’s books have stood out in this respect, as he simply has a knack for spinning tales of what he and his bandmates got up to in the past. Certainly more fun than what’s depicted of Penny Rimbaud and Dial House in The Story of Crass, even if any story of rock ’n’ roll excess sounds to me like a warning signal rather than lifestyle advice. I’ve also read other biographies and memoirs, of course, as said before, but two really stand out for me. The first is Chris Rodley’s Lynch on Lynch, published in the late ’90s, collecting a series of interviews conducted with the film director, and the second would have to be Alan Licht’s Will Oldham on Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy. I have a lot of time for Lynch’s work and the book helps shine a light onto the mind behind it without compromising its mystique and integrity. The Licht book is just how I feel a music biography/memoir ‘should’ be. I’m not even a hardcore fan of Will Oldham’s work, only possessing several albums, but I found the long-form conversational approach with him in this book utterly engaging.

Away from music or films, I enjoyed the Alexander McQueen biography a lot as well, plus thought Dan Davies’ Jimmy Saville biography/expose, In Plain Sight: The Life and Lies of Jimmy Saville, said as much about certain institutions we’re led to believe in as the late public figure and his nefarious antics himself.

TPQ: Any author or book you point blank refuse to read?

RJ: I don’t think there’s anything I’d ‘refuse’ to read. That suggests indignation on my part. As much as I will avoid anything that’s of little interest to me, I feel I’d still read something of that nature if accorded no other choice. I’m not closed to anything and would prefer to read than not read, even if there’d be nothing to gain beyond forming another opinion, ultimately.

TPQ: A book to share with somebody so that they would more fully understand you?

RJ: The presently unwritten one in my head might go some way to help, although I’m not convinced anybody can “fully understand” another person. I feel we die not fully understanding ourselves, even. To fully understand would be to put a full stop on the process of experiencing, learning, gaining knowledge and so on we embark on as we make our way through the murky waters of life, wouldn’t it? My entire book collection only points to some of this.


TPQ: Last book you gave as a present?

RJ: I love giving books as presents. I bought my mum two books on Berlin for her birthday as she loves the place so much she keeps saying how much she wishes she was younger and could move there. I think I’d have then enjoyed getting some of my weirdo avant-garde musician friends who reside there to check in on her and my stepdad! I also bought my wife a coffee table book of Hilma af Klint prints for her birthday, plus when I was in England just recently I picked up some Mr. Men books for our daughter, although at less than a year old it’ll be a while yet before she gets to them. I also got my youngest son a book he wanted on some Japanese art, but I’ve forgotten what it was exactly. He wanted a Pynchon book for Christmas as well, so I’m pleased about that.

TPQ: Book you would most like to see turned into a movie?

RJ: Most film adaptations of books are pretty disastrous, but I really like Werner Herzog’s Aguirre, the Wrath of God and its being loosely based on Joseph Conrad’s excellent Heart of Darkness. Conversely, I have a soft spot for Terry Gilliam’s adaptation of Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas, too. David Cronenberg’s Naked Lunch underlines my initial point, though. Equally, the film adaptations of J.G. Ballard’s Crash and High Rise by, respectively, Cronenberg (again!) and Ben Wheatley didn’t translate too well to the screen, despite the generally reliable hands of both directors. I also liked the adaptation of Brett Easton Ellis’ American Psycho by Mary Harron. Anyway, to answer the question, I always thought Clive Barker’s short story, In the Hills, the Cities, would make for an incredible horror/fantasy film with a cerebral edge. Most Clive Barker adaptations have been pretty tragic affairs, but I think a director such as Guillermo del Toro could do wonders with this story. I’m not sure it’s something I’d ‘most’ like to see, but this short story especially resonated from the fantastic Books of Blood collections.

TPQ: The just must - select one book you simply have to read before you close the final page on life.

RJ: This is another question I cannot really answer. I buy books constantly, despite not having the time spare to keep up with all of them. Precisely because of this, in more recent years I’ve been saying it’ll be better to die with piles of unread books nestled amongst those I have got to over the years because it probably says more about me than anything else. I’d like to devour all the unread books I have piled up here before I go, but this will never happen because I’m forever adding to them. I really hope to get to Public Enemies by Michel Houellebecq and Bernard-Henri Levy ’soon’, however.

Richard Johnson runs Fourth Dimension Records and is the author of Grudge For Life.

2 comments:

  1. Great addition to the series and also a great one to boost the relaunch of Booker's after a break. There is so much good stuff there

    ReplyDelete
  2. Gary Robertson comments

    12:21 PM
    In fairness I haven’t heard of half of those titles (nothing new there) but was drawn to the Saville book, for me that’s a must read. As for the article itself anyone who loves horror can’t be all bad in my book. 🤣

    ReplyDelete