About this Site
My name's Jonathan Pinnock. I lead a dual life. In one half of this, I run a software development company called Jonathan Pinnock and Associates. If you've come here looking for that, here's where you need to go.However, if you've come here to find out about the other half of my life, as a writer of fiction and non-fiction, you've come to the right place.
If, on the other hand, you've arrived here by accident whilst searching for Japanese Tentacle Porn, I suggest you try using a different search engine.
If you'd like to contact me, my e-mail address is jon AT jpassoc DOT co DOT uk.
Books
Mrs Darcy versus the Aliens was published by Proxima Books in September 2011.
The Scott Prize-winning short story collection Dot(.), Dash(-) will be published by Salt in 2012.
Jul
27
Harry Patch and the Battle Proms
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On Saturday night we headed off down the road to Hatfield House for this year’s Battle Prom Concert, one of those truly weird only-in-England things. Essentially, the deal is that you turn up, grab a spot to pitch your deckchairs (plus your gazebo if you get there early enough – which we were, just) and settle down for a picnic. The entertainment consists of a cavalry display by a bunch of Napoleonic war re-enacters, a spectacular aerobatic display by a Spitfire and a concert programme of pieces designed to bring out your inner jingoist, including the 1812 (with real cannon and fireworks), Beethoven’s Battle Symphony (again with real cannon and fireworks – not one of old Ludwig’s finest pieces, but never mind) and ending up with Jerusalem, Rule Britannia and Pomp and Circumstance No. 1, with associated audience singalong and flag-waving. All in all, a great afternoon and evening’s entertainment.
And all this on the day that Harry Patch died, aged 111, a stark reminder (if we needed it) of what war is really all about for the poor bastards at the sharp end. My VWC chum Ian Cundell has written far more eloquently about the significance of Harry Patch’s passing over at If Shakespeare …, and I recommend that you take a look.
Jun
30
Calderdale 2009, The Brontës and The Dhol Foundation
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A few weeks ago, I received an e-mail telling me that I’d won one of the top three prizes in this year’s Calderdale Short Story Competition, out of 420 entries. So last Thursday we headed off to Halifax (the one in Yorkshire, not the one in Nova Scotia) for the prize-giving. Despite turning up a quarter of an hour late (and walking in during Sarah Holman’s reading of her story – sorry, Sarah!) we had a great time. I was more than a little apprehensive about reading my piece, “Possible Side Effects”, because it contains a fair smattering of strong language, and it’s a bit peculiar to walk into a roomful of strangers and start swearing like a trooper. Fortunately, it seemed to go down reasonably well, and it even got a few laughs – although some of them sounded ever so slightly nervous.
In the event, I came third, behind two excellent stories from Sarah Holman and Sylvia Anne Jones, but the very slight disappointment was tempered by the fact that apparently mine was the only piece that was on both judges’ final shortlist of six. And it was good to meet the two judges, Ra Page and Jane Rogers, as well as several members of the audience.
Halifax is a fascinating and slightly scary place on a Thursday night, mainly populated by young girls with orange fake tans wearing dresses that look smaller than the average T shirt. Amidst the febrile atmosphere, Mrs P and I eventually found an excellent Turkish restaurant, whose only drawback was the lack of an alcohol licence. So I was sent back out into the night to track a bottle down. I eventually succeeded, although I think that paying £9.50 for a bottle of Echo Falls red counts as some kind of benchmark in desperation. Although, curiously, after the thrill of the chase, it didn’t actually taste at all bad.
We thought we’d make a short break of it, so we stayed a couple of nights in nearby Hebden Bridge – a lovely place, mainly populated by ageing hippies. On the Friday we left the car behind and took the bus over to Haworth, into Brontë country, where we went on an eleven mile circular walk up to Wuthering heights and back. Wonderful, and I didn’t break out into a Kate Bush impression once.
The icing on the cake came later on, when we were taking a stroll around Hebden Bridge after supper and we heard music coming from the cinema. It turned out that The Dhol Foundation were playing a gig there to kick off the local arts festival. Woo hoo! Ever since we saw tham at WOMAD a couple of years back, we’ve both been big fans of the Dhols, and as there was only an hour to go, we managed to get in for a fiver each. Oh, and they were ace as ever.
Apr
29
Choose What You Read
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I picked up on this excellent FT article via James Burt’s always entertaining blog. As it happens, I’ve been commuting into London a lot more than usual lately, and the way that the bloody free papers seem to have taken over the world astonishes me. I find it absolutely extraordinary that people who are prepared to put up with massive rises to their fares every year will avoid spending a single penny on something more worthwhile to read than Metro or London Lite. It’s probably one of the first signs of the end of civilisation, y’know.
Mar
26
Franz Kafka International Airport
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It’s the little details that make this a work of genius. Thanks to Ian Cundell of the VWC for pointing it out.
Mar
25
Read and Learn
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Great advice in this blog post from recent Fish runner-up Vanessa Gebbie, who (I need hardly point out) has a trophy cabinet of similar proportions to Manchester United.
Feb
20
Pitching Practice
Filed Under Festivals and Conferences, Things I like | 3 Comments
So this is where I’m off to tomorrow. Should be a lot of fun – certainly the last two years have been. And this time around there will be agents there. So I’m currently practising my pitch. And believe me, I need all the practice I can get – I am a lousy salesman.
And to fill up a bit of space, here’s a video of one of my favourite singers, Robyn Hitchcock, talking about the album I’ve been playing all week:
Go and buy a copy. Now. It’s gorgeous.
Jan
29
RIP John Martyn
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Sad synchronicity. I was spending my lunch hour tweaking a story that name-checks John Martyn, when I look up to see on the news ticker that he’s just died. I guess he wasn’t the sort of guy to overstay his welcome, but 60 is still way too young. He was a genuine one-off who ploughed his own furrow, and the world will be a sadder place for his parting. And if anyone doubts his genius, consider the fact that he managed (briefly) to make Phil Collins look cool. I saw him live once, in the old Marquee club, back in the late 70s, and it was the perfect venue for him: intimate, rowdy and dirty. A great gig.
Here’s a performance of “Bless the Weather” from around the same time:
Dec
18
Best Blog Post Ever
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I was just about to put together one of those reflective posts that discuss the various wonderful things I’ve done this year and the even more wonderful things that I’m really going to do next year (win the Bridport, publish best-selling novel, that kind of thing), when I came across this, from Paul Klugman’s blog. Paul Klugman recently won the Nobel prize for economics. Now that is class.
What is slightly disconcerting about this is that when I saw it, I immediately got the joke. I described it to my daughter, who did not. She had not heard of lolcats. She is 20. I am somewhat older than that. I need to get out more.
Dec
10
When Slay Bells Ring
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My ever-inventive chum Toby Frost, author of the excellent Space Captain Smith books, has now produced a Christmas Special. Woo hoo! Read it here, and then go and buy the books if you haven’t already.
Dec
3
I recently submitted a poem containing the word “Nanotechnologist”, which I was rather pleased about. I have no idea whether or not I was right to feel pleased about this, because I haven’t yet heard back from the market in question (and don’t expect to for a while yet). However, this led to an interesting discussion on our writers’ circle forum on shoe-horning difficult words into poems, in the course of which two of us independently proposed that the finest example of this ever occurred in the song “Nervous Wreck” by the Radio Stars. If you’ve ever heard it, you’ll know exactly what I mean, and if you haven’t, why on earth not?
Here it is:
Isn’t that the best chorus of all time?