Book: The Uncuffed Suspect by Lupin Bleucategories: Book, Armageddon, Humour, Astroid, Experimental, Bomb, Comic, Political, Sex, Satire
Lupin Bleuabout this book: The Uncuffed Suspect is my first novella - or 'Nervella' as I like to call it - since it was written partly as a reaction to the events of 9/11 and their ongoing consequences.
I remember that day very well, as even at a distance (I was sitting in a loft apartment in rural Essex) it had a very strange feeling about it.
The guy I was hanging out with at the time turned to me and said that our lives would never be the same again. And that the frustrating thing was we would never know the difference.
I knew I wanted to write about it, but quickly realised that the profound disquiet that began to manifest itself would be very challenging to encapsulate in a conventional form. So, drawing inspiration from two of my heroes, William Burroughs and Quentin Tarantino, I decided in a fit of 'shit or bust' pique that I would throw caution to the wind and just write the son of a bitch.
Twelve years later, I finally finished it, and I have promised myself never ever to make the same mistake again. Not that The Uncuffed Suspect is a mistake, far from it. I regard it as satirical tour-de-force, violent and tender in equal measure. There is a passage in it where an airline pilot crashes his 737 into a hillside because he mistakenly believes he is terminally ill. When he died, I cried. As a writer you can become very attached to the characters you create. Especially if they contain little pieces of yourself.
But why did it take so long to write? Not because I'm an inordinately lazy bastard, but because I spend far too much time thinking. When I started work on The Uncuffed Suspect, I had enough money saved to pay the bills for 7 months, so I quit my job, bought 2 pads of A4 lined and sat down on the sofa to thrash it out in time for Christmas. Things didn't work out that way as I discovered that for me, writing was 2% making marks with ink and 98 % scratching my head until it bled.
I learnt some harsh lessons from the Uncuffed experience. Namely that the old cliché – "Don't get it right; get it written", is such a sage piece of advice. Rare are the days when the muse just flows as molten gold and the words line-up like heroes in a pantheon of dreams. Beneath all of that you need to dig the foundations and fill them with rubble so that they will support the steelwork that shores-up the walls which you will decorate and then, finally hang your master-pieces. In short, it's no good leaving the paint in the tin – you've gotta pop the lid and get rolling.
So The Uncuffed Suspect is the fruit of over a decade's worth of dandruff. Only if it's apples and pears you're after, then best get yourself down to the grocer. But if 'fruitiness' of a different variety floats your boat, then keep it right here, because this novella is full of it, peeled, squeezed, pulped and juiced.
Welcome to Armageddon, folks. This is where life and literature goes decidedly off-piste to create an unholy melange of flash-backs, interludes and dire predictions.
preview: read a sample from this book
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