Ask Stephen: the virtual booktour

Only Stephen Fry could get away with this, yet he may be starting a trend: launching a book via Twitter, cinema, webcasts and, later, YouTube, no doubt. And The Fry Chronicles is available in five formats simultaneously: book, eBook, iBook, audiobook and iPhone app.

Mr Fry is launching the tome by appearing at the various UK theatres to do augmented book readings on successive evenings: the add-on part comes from interaction with audiences in the venue and at 60 cinemas with some of his 1.8 million Twitter followers.

Real-time Q and A, and the Twittersphere will send #recommendation tags to their exponential readers. Already the Chronicles has toppled Tony Blair's Journey from the top of Amazon's UK book chart. Very smart.

All this commercial success without stepping into a television or radio studio, chatting to features journalists (although Mr Fry is doing his bit the old-fashioned way, too), going 'on the road' past the Oxford-Cambridge-London triangle, or getting your hair wet.

Where Stephen leads, other writers will follow, especially if they have a Twitter fan base.


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Separated at birth, go West young man

The passing of the baton, should Spaghetti Westerns ever make a comeback: for Clint Eastwood, read Hugh Jackman.


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A room of one's own: an unattainable dream?

Where there's an online product, you'll soon find a hacker or a pirate.

The latest examples that confirm the human urge to scream 'Mine' very loudly are Andy Coulson's tenure as editor of the News of the World (phone hacking has been alleged by, most recently, the New York Times) and hacker success in distributing popular ebooks for free.

Even the unveiling of the Stig's identity on Top Gear smacks of the school playground bully, tearing off the wings of a butterfly.

At stake, personal and professional privacy, and the right to make money from electronic products.

This is a gold rush in reverse where, in a landscape where information wants to be free, no one is allowed to make money. This spells disaster to conventional business models for creative companies. The globalisation effects of YouTube, home recording and back-bedroom piracy will propel the media into a dangerous Wild West outlaw world where copyright is seen as red tape and creatives won't be able to earn a crust. The new billionaires will be the sharp-elbowed owners of the speakeasies at the edge of the law and beyond.

The likes of Mick Jagger, J K Rowling, Steven Spielberg, Clint Eastwood and Dan Brown represent the last of a dying breed: stars who get rich through their imaginations.


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Sean Connery at 80

Shaken, not stirred, perhaps to have reached such a milestone, the Scottish icon is still semi-active as an actor. A voiceover for the animation, Sir Billi, is in post-production.

It's amazing that Sir Sean was still playing action heroes in 2003. Given audience expections, you can't imagine Angelina Jolie playing Lara Croft at 73, unless the franchise spins out to the Tomb Raider's granddaughter.

Movies are strange beasts that don't reflect society. Perhaps we are more reluctant to let go of action heroes? Maybe things won't change until women get action franchises as the lead protagonists ... and this has not happened often in a century of commercial film-making.


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Who do you think you are? Royalty?

Actually, in the cases of Matthew Pinsent and Alexander Armstrong the answer is 'Yes'.

Alexander Armstrong traced his ancestry back to William the Conqueror and Matthew Pinsent was related to God, via Edward the Confessor.

There seems to be one episode every series that deals with a celebrity's distant relationship to the English aristocracy and, in Boris Johnson's case, the European monarchies.

The other staple is the Holocaust story: such as Stephen Fry, Jerry Springer, and Esther Rantzen (the family that got away)

The producers must approach about twenty celebrities per series to work out which stories are the most interesting.

Perhaps the groundwork is done before filming starts. Rumour has it that an episode featuring Michael Parkinson was canned on account of Mr Parkinson being the most interesting person in his own family.


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The art of East London: beyond Banksy

'How can you tell me you're lonely
And say, for you, that the sun don't shine
Let me take you by the hand
And lead you through the streets of London
I'll show you something to make you change your mind'

Ralph McTell might have been singing about isolation in the big city, but Hookedblog.co.uk's blogger and street sherpa, Mark, took a group of individuals at a loose end last Sunday on a tour around the ever-changing surfaces of parts of Islington, Hackney and Tower Hamlets.


This urban jungle safari brought out an abundance of sightings of work by the likes of Roa, Invader, Eine, D*face and the Toasters: many of which would be missed by the untrained eye. Mark's tracker skills in the wilder streets proved invaluable. Everyone caught the moments with their cameras, while trophy hunters were discouraged.


And were the walk to be repeated in a few weeks time, the images captured would be different; shifted by the passage of time, the councils' clean-up teams, gallery commissions, opportunistic collectors and street-art politics.



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Overnet stardom

The mechanisms of making a name for oneself are changing. Wither music went, comedy follows. Bo Burnham has gone from gigging in his bedroom to the Edinburgh Fringe, with a stratospheric fan base shift from 1 (his Mum) to 59 million.

What's next? Playwrights: front room to Royal Court? Actors showreels: no need for auditions? Television presenters/hosts: cut out the expensive Stage School fees?

But in this wired world of celebrity meteors, will fame burn brightly but fade quickly? It would be interesting to learn current hit stats for Susan Boyle YouTube videos and websites.


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Variations on a midlife theme

You can tell you're getting older when ...

• Generation Y actors start getting wrinkles;
• Your favourite shops disappear (usually bought by a supermarket chain or an online retailer);
• Politicians change the groundrules again for no good reason;
• You remember the last three recessions;
• No one knows your favourite television shows, movies, bands etc and you have never heard of theirs;
• You fancy the romantic lead's mum/dad (delete as applicable).

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The Katy Perry Brand

Is she or is she not married? Slips of the tongue on The Graham Norton Show suggests Katy Perry may well have already tied the knot with Russell Brand. No matter, they'll be hitched soon in any case.

But how do married pop stars fare? Will she be a Louise Redknapp, formerly of Eternal, who retired gracefully from the scene when she married Jamie? Or will she be a Madonna, carrying on regardless of who she's seeing?

The brand may have to change, though, as reality will change adolescent fantasy. Perhaps she'll corner the Easy Listening market or release albums direct to a supermarket or elevator near you? Or follow Tiffany and tour the malls.


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Frank Sidebottom: he did it his way

Chris Sievey had an unusual life. Quirkily successful, he died a pauper. He is the only performer I can think of who was much less well-known than his papier-mâché puppet alter ego: Frank Sidebottom.

Frank was way ahead of his time, celebrating the naffness and desperation of celebrity and over-promoting the banal: he, like me, was born and bred in Timperley, Cheshire, and name-dropped the place at every opportunity.

Mr Sievey's originality spawned the careers of Caroline Aherne (Mrs Merton made her debut on Radio Timperley and Frank's Fantastic Shed Show), Chris Evans (erstwhile Sidebottom roadie) and Jon Ronson, and influenced the likes of Graham Fellows and Mark Radcliffe.

News of his death kicked off a viral campaign to pay for the funeral. The tsunami of affection has created a campaign for a posthumous single release (perhaps the mock football anthem 'Three Shirts on my Line') and a possible movie.

If the film ever got made it would have the potential to be a quintessentially mad English indie sensation: 'Born in Timperley', indeed. Fantastic.


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Occupational hazard: the danger of painting

Caravaggio died for his art, it's official.

The bones of the artist have been identified in Tuscany and they show signs of lead poisoning.

Caravaggio died at 38 after an eventful life. But how come the likes of Michelangelo (89 years), Leonardo da Vinci (67 years) and Titian (91-plus years) lived into old age, despite prolific output of paintings?

Is this a genetic pre-disposition to absorbing lead, was Caravaggio a workaholic, or did he simply use different paints to the others?

As a mystery is solved, a new riddle is formed.


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Alan Bennett and the ice-cream robbery scam

Alan Bennett, the famous diarist, playwright and Beyond the Fringe veteran, has fallen victim to a con in central London where two women splattered his raincoat with ice-cream and offered to clean it up, while stealing £1500 he had just withdrawn from his bank.

The probability of being robbed in the street does not vary whether someone is well known or not, but the silver lining for Mr Bennett is that he can write about it in his diaries. The episode might even be the kernel of a new play.

This would be an interesting form of revenge, turning adversity into profit while highlighting the scam to warn off repeat offences and copycat pickpockets.


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Radiohead: In Rainbows and the lack of gold

Millionaire, Thom Yorke of Radiohead has a bleak message for musicians wanting to make their fortune: the record-label based music industry will be dead within months.

The business model of In Rainbows may be open to every bussing muso, but the market is saturated and bands need ways to stand out from the crowd: principally, it seems at the moment, by being famous already (witness Radiohead, Prince, the Rolling Stones, and Simply Red).

Perhaps the hip-hop solution can be applied to the industry at large. The most famous rappers are becoming hubs around which new talent can coalesce (an early example being Eminem's involvement of D12 and Obie Trice). The hubs will be the nouveau riche. 

Like viral blog recommendations and links, the goodwill and praise of a famous artist (for a percentage cut) may be sufficient to drive download sales. And online musico-dramaturgs will emerge in greater numbers, carrying the John Peel legacy on to the web (say, his sons: Tom and William Ravenscroft; and Tom Robinson). The sharing of music is much more than playing records; the title DJ does not encompass the revised job description of these new gatekeepers to the music.

The recording industry is dead; long live the recording industry.


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The publicist behind the footballer

An interesting spin on Paul Scholes' decision to turn down Fabio Capello's invitation to resume his midfield England career, six years after his international retirement to concentrate on Manchester United, his family and his telly.

Apparently he would have accepted the call he had been given more time to consider the offer: i.e an opportunity to play in the World Cup qualifying competition. Mr Scholes says he would not have wished to take the place of a player who had been involved with the team over the previous two years.

Methinks I detect the voice of a skilled publicist, spinning a positive line on a decision Paul Scholes was always going to make.


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Lempik Öpik and the talking shoe

Nuff said (see Lempik Öpik: definition of a midlife crisis).

Maybe Mr Öpik was ticking off a childhood dream. He may now have to try the next item on his wishlist.


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Lembit Öpik: definition of a mid-life crisis

So what does a recently deposed MP do with their unexpected spare time after an election? Write their memoirs? Get stuck back into local politics? Return to their previous career?

No, Lembit Öpik, the former LibDem MP for Montgomeryshire is tonight trying his hand out as a stand-up comedian. Obviously.

This is either a stroke of genius or a recipe for mid-life shaped disaster.

On the plus side, Mr Öpik has plenty of material to draw on: engagement to a Cheeky girl (check); earlier engagement to a weathergirl (check); obsession with Earth-bound asteroids (check). And, to be honest, to keep relationships going with younger women, he must have more of a sense of humour than he displayed on a recent episode of Have I Got News for You (although appearing of the show within 24 hours of his ousting hinted of an ability to absorb humiliation and tout his CV on primetime television).

On the minus side, it might be a case of history repeating itself as farce. To get rejected from a safe-seat constituency might be unfortunate; to be booted off a comedy stage of your choosing within three weeks of the first pasting may look like carelessness.

My guess is that the reviewers will not be kind ... unless Mr Öpik turns out to show hitherto hidden brilliance at the one-liners as well as the harmonica. Politicians' appearances on panel shows tend to reflect their sense of hubris and ego rather than their innate sense of comic timing.


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Musical chairs at the Treasury

If John Paul I was the Pope of the moon (he died in office after 33 days), then David Laws was the Cabinet minister of the honeymoon: he resigned today after 18 days over an expenses claim blunder masquerading as a privacy issue. It was the Telegraph wot dun it.

Welcome to the political pleasuredome. Life in power can be nasty, brutish and short, although with the swiftness of Mr Laws' departure, he may well be back after the Parliamentary Commissioner for Standards has had a rake over his rent arrangements.


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Maggie, Maggie, Maggie; in, out, shake it all about

Maggie's club on the Fulham Road is a hit with the Sloanes and Hoorays. Apparently the venue is themed to the 1980s 'glory years' of Margaret Thatcher: memorabilia, speeches, the works.

Actually, the operative word is hit. Apparently, the owners have had to replace three sets of speakers from clubbers unappreciative of the Iron Lady's classic riffs: party-goer have punched out the woofers and tweeters. There is still no such thing as Society.

Will David Cameron be inspiring nightlife entrepreneurs in 2040, I wonder? It is very early days. 'Stand down, David, stand down, please' is not yet a pop-pickers rallying cry.


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Sarah Ferguson and the toe-curling sting

The News of the World does it again. English 'royal' gets entrapped taking the cash and sipping the booze.

Still, look on the bright side: the Duchess of York didn't use the old Russian mafia excuse.


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Pentecostal muscle: a hip-hop career launched?

Scorchio day: made for lazing around, sunbathing, swimming, seeing off local vicar to pastures new with hog-roast buffet and the help of the BBC's Songs of Praise, and introducing a new performer to national consciousness: Forgive, known in civilian life as Toby Butler.

Performing the topical track, 'Straight Fire', for a live broadcast from All Saints, Peckham, Forgive is soon to hippety-hop into a professional career as a musician in a niche market: UK Christian rap. In a world of rampant illicit downloads, tanking niche distributors and retailers (e.g. STL, now under new ownership; Wesley Owen), difficulty in standing out to mass audiences through the white noise of the internet, and shrinking offline media platforms for original music material, how does a new artist like Forgive make a mark on the culture?

• Set up a bespoke website: check;
• Launch a record label: check;
• Write loads of material: check, launch of debut album, Straight Fire, in August 2010;
• Develop a viral marketing strategy: check, stealth-bomb blogs with relevant copy, upload videos to YouTube, plug review copy on relevant platforms (e,g. forthcoming Cross Rhythms feature), decent SEO plan to get 'Forgive' as top rank, say, for 'UK Christian hip-hop' Google search terms;
• Get radio airplay: check, future niche domination of the likes of UCB Radio and Premier Christian Radio; tomorrow promotion via the likes of the Tom Robinson Introducing 6 Music show of bands without corporate contracts;
• Grow a loyal fan base: check, local gigs supplemented by national tours to local churches and festivals;
• Become a rapper-in-residence: react to relevant events with slam poetry like a hip-hop version of Carol Ann Duffy;
• Reclaim rap for positive messages: check, role model status brings private and public responsibilities (Toby is married to Hannah);
• Name-check merchandise à la Taio Cruz (viz: Rokstarr sunglasses): check today's chapter and verse; tomorrow the hip-hop Bible to retrieve the hype from KRS-One's megalomania? (Well, if it can be translated into Klingon, anything's possible);
• Investigate new markets: check, develop relationships with relevant international websites (e.g. urban churches, rap blogs and websites), make sure viral marketing messages are not exclusively UK-centric. 

While the field is narrow, talent one hopes will out. Hopefully Forgive will not be forgetten in a hurry: he might even get name-checked in Rapzilla's next video roll-call ...


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