Anthony Cronin’s account of life in post-war literary Dublin is as funny and colourful as one would expect from an intimate of Brendan Behan, Patrick Kavanagh and Myles na Gopaleen; but it is also a clear-eyed and bracing antidote to the kitsch that passes for literary history and memory in the Dublin of today. Cronin writes with remarkable subtlety of the frustrations and pathologies of this generation: the excess of drink, the shortage of sex, the insecurity and begrudgery, the painful limitations of cultural life, and the bittersweet pull of exile. We read of a comical sojourn in France with Behan, and of Cronin’s years in London as a literary editor and a friend of the writer Julian Maclaren-Ross and the painters Robert MacBryde and Robert Colquhoun. The generation chronicled by Cronin was one of wasted promise. That waste is redressed through the shimmering prose of Dead as Doornails, earning its place in Irish literary history alongside the best works of Behan, Kavanagh and Myles.

    The Judge, as he was known to all, took on some of the most dangerous fast bowlers of all time with a skill and fearlessness that ensured hero status. His savage square cut drew roars of approval from fans all around the world, especially those of his beloved England and Hampshire. But when he was prematurely dumped from the England set-up at the age of 32, he had to face his toughest opponent of all – himself. Smith suffered a debilitating loss of identity, especially when he retired from professional cricket in 2003, and struggled to deal with the contradictions in his personality. Was he the Judge, the fearless warrior, or Robin Smith, the frantic worrier?Without a support structure to transition from cricket to the outside world, Smith suffered from mental health, alcohol, marital and financial problems until he hit rock bottom and planned to take his own life. In The Judge, he revisits his experience of extreme darkness and challenges received wisdom about masculinity and mental health. He also shares the many highs and lows of his eventful international and county career, including his exhilarating battles with the West Indies and his struggles against mystery spin. And he reflects fondly on a time when cricketers worked hard and partied even harder; a time almost unrecognisable to the modern day.

    The secret, though, that surrounded my parents’ unhappy life together, was divulged to me by accident . . .’ Hidden under some papers in his father’s bureau, the sixteen-year-old Derek Malcolm finds a book by the famous criminologist Edgar Lustgarten called The Judges and the Damned. Browsing through the Contents pages Derek reads, ‘Mr Justice McCardie tries Lieutenant Malcolm – page 33.’ But there is no page 33. The whole chapter has been ripped out of the book. Slowly but surely, the shocking truth emerges: that Derek’s father, shot his wife’s lover and was acquitted at a famous trial at the Old Bailey. The trial was unique in British legal history as the first case of a crime passionel, where a guilty man is set free, on the grounds of self-defence. Husband and wife lived together unhappily ever after, raising Derek in their wake. Then, in a dramatic twist, following his father’s death, Derek receives an open postcard from his Aunt Phyllis, informing him that his real father is the Italian Ambassador to London . . . By turns laconic and affectionate, Derek Malcolm has written a richly evocative memoir of a family sinking into hopeless disrepair. Derek Malcolm was chief film critic of the Guardian for thirty years and still writes for the paper. Educated at Eton and Merton College, Oxford, he became first a steeplechase rider and then an actor after leaving university. He worked as a journalist in the sixties, first in Cheltenham and then with the Guardian where he was a features sub-editor and writer, racing correspondent and finally film critic. He directed the London Film Festival for a spell in the 80s and is now President of both the International Film Critics Association and the British Federation of Film Societies. He lives with his wife Sarah Gristwood in London and Kent and has published two books – one on Robert Mitchum and another on his favourite 100 films. He is a frequent broadcaster on radio and television and a veteran of film festival juries all over the world.

    Jay Paterno paints a full picture of his father’s life and career as well as documenting that almost none of the horrific crimes that came to light in 2012 took place at PennState. Jay Paterno clear-headedly confronts the events that happened with cool facts and with passion, demonstrating that this was just one more case of an innocent man convicted by the media for a crime in which he had no part. Noting that the scandal itself was but a short moment in Joe Paterno’s life and legacy, the book focuses on Paterno’s greatness as a father and grandfather, his actions as a miraculous coach to his players, and his skillful dealings with his assistant coaches. A memorial to one of the greatest coaches in college football history, the book also reveals insightful anecdotes from his son and coaching pupil.

    At first I tried to deny my condition (trying to treat a tumor with hot baths and ice packs). Eventually, I decided I would learn as much about my illness as possible while trying to keep my emotions on hold.What followed was an experience that finally forced me to deal with issues about my body that I had tried to ignore for decades. Along the way I dealt with a physician who gave me ridiculous advice and acquaintances who asked unbelievable questions. But I was also fortunate to be surrounded by people who supported me and doctors who helped me through the process.

    

    

    Lumped into the burgeoning alt-country movement, the band soon landed a major label deal and recorded an instant classic: Strangers Almanac. That's when tour manager Thomas O'Keefe met the young musician.For the next three years, Thomas was at Ryan's side: on the tour bus, in the hotels, backstage at the venues. Whiskeytown built a reputation for being, as the Detroit Free Press put it, "half band, half soap opera," and Thomas discovered that young Ryan was equal parts songwriting prodigy and drunken buffoon. Ninety percent of the time, Thomas could talk Ryan into doing the right thing. Five percent of the time, he could cover up whatever idiotic thing Ryan had done. But the final five percent? Whiskeytown was screwed.Twenty-plus years later, accounts of Ryan's legendary antics are still passed around in music circles. But only three people on the planet witnessed every Whiskeytown show from the release of Strangers Almanac to the band's eventual breakup: Ryan, fiddle player Caitlin Cary, and Thomas O'Keefe.

    The book also includes some of her best fiction pieces.

    In fact, she may even be a lot like you. In her fast-moving world, she might be called on as a friend, coworker, daughter, girlfriend, confidante, brat, cynic, or domestic-goddess-in-training. She's willing to juggle pretty much anything that gets thrown her way, but the one label she simply won't embrace is ma'am.Like so many bright-eyed college graduates before her, Mitchael begins her twenties armed with the conviction that the world is hers for the taking. And she discovers that it is, mostly—only no one told her just how often she’d have to pick herself up off the floor along the way.Written for every woman who’s experienced the ups and downs of trying to figure out who you’re really meant to be, Just Don’t Call Me Ma’am is a story of one woman and the choices that add up to be her twentysomething life—and of how sometimes you have to remember where you came from before you can figure out where you’re going.

    His name and face are painted on walls across Belfast, and his desire to remove Adams and McGuinness from the political spectrum has turned him into a local super-hero. A meticulous killing machine, he executed six men, whose deaths were claimed under different Loyalist groupings, and when justice finally caught up with him he was sentenced to 800 years in prison. Twelve years later, he left a free man, renounced terrorism, apologized for the suffering he had caused and said the fledgling peace process was the only way forward. This is his own true story.

    He is this century's most ardent advocate of First Amendment rights, a man whose landmark Supreme Court cases are studied by every law student in America. He is the founder and publisher of Hustler magazine, a journal often described as tasteless, crude, scatological, and gynecologically explicit - to which he would reply, "Good!" For Flynt, tastelessness is "a necessary tool in challenging preconceived notions in a world where people are afraid to discuss their attitudes, prejudices, and misconceptions." Born in the hills of Kentucky, in the poorest county in America, Flynt became a teenage runaway, an underage recruit in both the army and the navy, a bootlegger, a scam artist, a bar owner, the proprietor of a string of go-go clubs, an evangelical Christian, an atheist, and eventually a millionaire pornographer and publisher. A prodigious sexual athlete, Flynt was shot down in his prime by an assailant's bullet and paralyzed from the waist down. Wheelchair bound and racked by years of searing pain, he became a pain-medicine junkie and habitue of America's courtrooms. Persecuted by the self-righteous Charles Keating, prosecuted by ambitious district attorneys, sued by moral crusaders like Jerry Falwell, and hounded by the government, Flynt forged a blazing trail through the American legal system. Remarkably, Larry Flynt has never told his story before. This highly personal and reflective account will surprise everyone, offend a few, and entertain many.

    Cultivated by the Motown star machine, Mary Wilson, Diana Ross, and Florence Ballard popped onto the charts with hits like "Baby Love" and "Where Did Our Love Go" and made the Supremes not only a household name, but rock and roll legends. The story of their journey to fame is one that fairy tales are made of-complete with battles, tragedies, and triumphs. It's a story that only one of the founders of this talented trio is able or willing to share with the world. In Dreamgirls & Supreme Faith: My Life as a Supreme, Supremes' co-founder Mary Wilson boldly brings to life all the intimate details of the group's struggle to top the charts. This is the first book to tell the complete story of Mary's courageous life from childhood through the height of the Supremes, to the turn of the century. This beautiful paperback edition combines the best-selling Dreamgirls with the sequel, Supreme Faith: Someday We'll Be Together, for the first time in one volume. The new afterword brings Mary's intriguing story up to date with details on. . . - The tragic car accident that claimed her son's life - The death of her mother, Johnnie Mae, and her dear friend, Mary Wells - Becoming a grandmother - Making her peace with Berry Gordy and Diana Ross - Being inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and receiving a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame The Supremes wonderful music isn't the only thing to remain in the public's mind. Diana Ross' push for dominance in the trio has become legendary. Mary Wilson speaks candidly about Ross' tactics to latch onto Berry Gordy, and force her will on the group's activities. For example, while on the early tours, Diana would threaten to call Gordy from the road if the men on the bus didn't behave to her approval. She also openly pushed for Flo's removal from the group. Wilson also openly shares her thoughts on . . .The group's never-ending b

    Features a song-by-song analysis, a song index for easy reference, and details of compilations and live albums.

    On programmes such as My Word! and My Music his distinctive voice became familiar to millions as he displayed an astonishingly well-stocked mind and a genius for ad libbing and outrageous puns. Later, working at the BBC and then at London Weekend Television, he produced some of the best television comedy of the 1960s and 70s. He has written highly successful books for children, and two bestselling anthologies of humour.Frank Muir recalls, in glorious detail, a happy 1920s childhood in the seaside town of Ramsgate, where he was born in his grandmother's pub in Broadstairs, and in London, where he attended an inexpensive but excellent school of a kind no longer to be found. He remembers his very first joke at the age of six, when he knew that his destiny was to make people laugh. He also knew from an early age that he wanted to write, but it took a childhood illness for him to discover that humour and writing could be combined. The death of his father forced him to leave school at the age of fourteen and work in a factory making carbon paper. Then, at the outbreak of the Second World War, he joined the RAF as an air photographer and his memories of the war years, as might be imagined, are engagingly different from the usual kind. It was during those years, with their rich fund of comic material, that he began his career as scriptwriter and performer. At his demob in 1945 he moved naturally to London and the Windmill Theatre, that remarkable breeding ground of talent where new comedians like Jimmy Edwards and Alfred Marks vied with nude girls for the attention of the audience. In story after story he recalls the lost world of London in the 1940s and early 50s, when the laughter and creative ideas seemed to explode out of post-war shabbiness and austerity. Then came the BBC, the legendary partnership with Denis Norden, and half a century of fulfilling the boyhood ambition of that Kentish lad. 'All I ever wanted to do was to write and amuse people.'