“An elegantly constructed and often funny story about a man, a woman and . . . ‘the greatest modern English architect never to have built a building’” (The New York Times Book Review).   Geoff Nicholson’s novel tells the story of Christopher Howell, a cult architect who allegedly built just one building, and the search for that fabled building―reputedly a wild, willful amalgam of styles ranging from eleventh-century Norman to twentieth-century Neutra. Ingeniously built into the narrative are bits of Howell’s essays that celebrate the idea of the “Cardboard House” and the architecture of impermanence. When Howell’s daughter—and keeper of his flame—Kelly, and a Howell groupie named Jack Dexter hook up in a free-falling love affair, the search for this apocryphal building becomes a search for a lost past. Brilliantly funny and seriously obsessive, Female...

The volunteer would complain, of course. I suppose he couldn't help it. He felt angry or self-righteous or betrayed. He said this was not what he'd signed up for, this was breaking a promise, breaking the rules, this was not the way the good guys conducted themselves. He might say this was a violation of his human rights, a war crime, a crime anyway. And I'd say, "You're probably right," and then continued with the process. Joe's got a lot to think about, and time on his hands to do it, since divorcing his wife and quitting his job training volunteers for a shadowy government agency. The otherwise nondescript house he's just moved into boasts one key feature: a circular path in an overgrown backyard, on which Joe plans to walk twenty-five miles a day for a thousand days. Joe figures that walking the circumference of the Earth―safely on his own patch of territory ―might just be the thing he needs to move on with his life. But curious neighbors keep sharing their...

Steve Geddes is writing about collectors and collecting. His research introduces him to people obsessed by many things, including cars, beer-cans, tape-recordings and jokes. Geddes also gets himself involved in a quest to find a cult novelist.

A comic novel celebrating road culture.Throughout the land VW Beetles are spontaneously combusting. Nazi skinheads are cruising the streets and a millionaire tycoon and a weather girl have been kidnapped. It falls to Barry Osgathorpe to discover who is responsible.

The author of The City Under the Skin maps out "a delightful fiction, and a wonderfully exasperated love letter to a great city" (Kirkus Reviews). Like any international metropolis, London draws the most diverse characters to its bustling streets. Meet Mick. He's on his way to the smoke from the provinces. He's got six guys to find with only their names to go on, a lust for vengeance, and a city guide. Meet Stuart. Determined to walk each of the capital's roads, streets, and alleyways, he's a man on a mission . . . but has no plan for when there's nowhere left to go. Meet Judy. She's determined to leave her mark on London—one lover at a time—creating a virtual A–Z of sex in the city. "A book whose setting becomes as much a character as the people who pepper its pages, Bleeding London is dark, droll, and suspenseful." —Library Journal "As packed with strange characters and comic and...

In Bedlam Burning, Geoff Nicholson takes deadly satiric aim at the ivy-covered walls of academia and the rubber rooms of insane asylums. When the debut novel of Gregory Collins is accepted by a publisher he seems set on a course for literary stardom. There's just one problem: he doesn't quite have the looks to match his talent, and his publisher wants a photo to put on the book jacket. He asks his handsome (but dim) college classmate, Mike Smith, to take his place. Consequently it is Smith rather than Collins who receives the offer to be writer-in-residence at an asylum where therapy is centered on the soothing powers of literature. It's not long before the boundaries between inmate and observer are blurred in this literary cuckoo's nest and this comedy of errors verges on tragedy. From Publishers WeeklyThe English comic tradition has always shown a fine weakness for a little lunacy, and Nicholson's 13th novel (after Bleeding London, a Whitbread Prize finalist) is the latest variation on that theme. Michael Smith is a handsome Cambridge graduate working a dead-end job at a rare book dealer's in the mid-'70s. Fellow grad Gregory Collins has written a novel and wants to use Michael's picture for the author photograph. The hoax gets more complex when Gregory persuades Michael to continue the imposture by giving a reading of the novel at a Brighton bookstore. In the sparse audience, which includes Michael's disapproving girlfriend, Nicola, is a gorgeous psychiatrist, Alicia Crowe, who persuades Michael-as-Gregory to be writer-in-residence at a local lunatic asylum. Michael accepts for two reasons: he's bored at the bookstore and wants to bed Alicia. The real Gregory approves, partly because he's slept with Nicola. Michael finds the Kincaid Clinic to be as strange as one would expect, and his attempts to turn a colorfully psychopathological crew into creative writing students eventually bears prolix fruit. He also discovers the dubious joys of making love to Alicia, who is a coprophemic a dirty talker. Michael finds Dr. Kincaid's extreme regulations unsettling: Kincaid bans pictures, photographs and drawings from the asylum, because, as he explains, the patients "have all seen too many images." The fragile situation begins to fall apart when a selection of the inmates' writing is actually published. The ensuing attention blows Michael's cover, but will his former Cambridge professor, John Bentley, unmask him? Nicholson's book, like a Fawlty Towers episode, delightfully stretches sanity to its farcical breaking point. Film rights optioned by New Line Cinema. (Feb.)Forecast: If Nicholson ever manages to break out in the U.S. a few prominent reviews would help he might well attract a loyal cult following.Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information, Inc.From Library JournalDonald Westlake meets Ken Kesey in this 13th novel by British author Nicholson (Bleeding London), about an author impersonation at a lunatic asylum. First novelist Gregory Collins seeks out Michael Smith, whom he met at a Cambridge University party in 1974, to pose for his author photo in the hopes that Smith's good looks will help sell his book. Smith, who is stuck in a dead-end job and a stagnant relationship, agrees and then watches as events unfold bewilderingly. Trouble starts when Smith is invited to serve as a writer-in-residence at the Kincaid Clinic, an institute for mental patients. Dr. Kincaid's therapeutic method is based on the belief that the patients are suffering from visual overload and that once they are relieved of this burden they will be free to unleash their thoughts in writing, which will cure them of their psychoses. As a result, the clinic has no television, no pictures in the newspapers, no books in the library, and no labels on the food cans. Once Smith enters the clinic, he finds himself drawn into a surreal world where it is difficult to tell the sane from the insane. A compulsively good read from start to finish, this work is highly recommended for all libraries. Film rights have been optioned by New Line Cinema. Barbara Love, Kingston Frontenac P.L., Ontario Copyright 2002 Reed Business Information, Inc.

Guitar players change lives. Everybody knows that. Geoff Nicholson's deliriously funny Flesh Guitar is an overstimulated love letter to the guitar, complete with feedback, reverb, and special guest appearances, with a lead player the likes of whom has not been seen since Hendrix departed this earth. Into the Havoc Bar and Grill, an end-of-the-world watering hole on the outer fringes of the metropolis, walks the entertainment, Jenny Slade. She has the look down: beat-up leather jacket, motorcycle boots, cheekbones, and wild hair. But she's no ordinary guitar heroine. Her guitar is like none her audience has ever seen, part deadly weapon, part creature from some alien lagoon. Is that hair? Are those nipples? Is it flesh? Where does Jenny Slade come from? Where does she go? Geoff Nicholson fans know that wherever that is, the ride will be like no other. "The electric guitar is Nicholson's latest test case and he nails it. Flesh Guitar is brilliant and clever beyond your wildest dreams." --Newsday "A blackly comic homage to Western culture's obsessive love affair with the electric guitar . . . always clever."--The New York Times Book Review "[Flesh Guitar] should prove, once and for all, that Nicholson is incomparable."--Independent on Sunday**

A cartographic thriller with so many twists and turns it requires its own mapA cartography-obsessed misfit clerk from an antique map store in a district that's not quite trendy yet. A bold young woman chasing the answer to a question she can't quite formulate. A petty criminal hoping the parking lot he's just purchased is the ticket to a new life of respectability with his school-age daughter. A ruthless but vulnerable killer and his disgruntled accomplice. In The City Under the Skin, it's not fate that will bind these characters together but something more concrete and sinister: the appearance of a group of mysterious women, their backs crudely and extensively tattooed with maps. They have been kidnapped, marked, and released, otherwise unharmed. When one turns up on the doorstep of the map shop and abruptly bares her back, only to be hustled away by a man in a beat-up blue Cadillac, it's the misfit clerk Zak, pushed by his curious new friend...

More information to be announced soon on this forthcoming title from Penguin USAFrom Publishers WeeklyA narrator whose outre sexual habits are as meticulously chronicled as an episode in Kraft-Ebbing's Pyschopathia Sexualis proves to be both a richly mined satirical vein and a hindrance in this ingenious, offbeat romantic fable from Nicholson (Still Life with Volkswagons), a British novelist whose U.S. reputation is on the rise. The unnamed hero is a foot fetishist, albeit a decidedly likable, well-groomed type, given to standing on London streets and posing as a fashion-industry PR consultant to ask women intimate questions about their feet. When Catherine, a statuesque, American sexual adventuress wearing "spike-heeled, zebra-skin shoes," invites him home for a night of wild, fetishistic sex, he thinks his prayers have been answered. Her feet are "a wonder of nature" and they happen to fit, Cinderella-like, a pair of especially exotic shoes the narrator spies one day in a shop window belonging to Harold Wilmer, a morose artisan of baroque footware who agrees to make a series of special shoes for Catherine and the narrator to incorporate into their sex life. Interspersed throughout are large doses of foot trivia and digressive accounts of the narrator's obsessions, from stealing women's shoes to compiling an enormous archive of scrapbooks, videos and some particularly outrageous FM's ("fuck-me shoes"). But just when the novel threatens to become little more than an archive unto itself, things turn around. Catherine gets cold feet and dumps the narrator, who learns that she is involved with a suspicious photographer named Kramer, who appears to be kinkier even than he is. When Kramer is mysteriously murdered and Catherine disappears, a particulary sinister police detective enters his life and confiscates his archive. It's not Nicholson's most ambitious book, but those who aren't too grossed out will enjoy this fiendish satire of a culture obsessed with sex, power and kinky apparel. First serial to Grand Street. Copyright 1996 Reed Business Information, Inc. From Kirkus ReviewsWildly prolific British satirist Nicholson (Still Life With Volkswagens, 1995, etc.) offers another black comedy of obsession, this time from the viewpoint of a foot fetishist. Right from the start Nicholson's unnamed narrator tells all about his swift descent ``to hell in a shoe box,'' giving the reader an obsessive's-eyeview of every nuance of foot- and shoe- fetishism. The otherwise unremarkable hero has given up on love but never tires of searching for the perfect foot. He has a giant archive of women's shoes, photos of shoes, photos of feet, articles on foot fetishism, anything and everything to do with female feet, and he proudly lays bare his soul to the ladies whose soles he desires. Fraudulently passing himself off as a researcher, he stands outside shoestores asking women to take part in a survey, which eventually leads to him photographing, then propositioning, women with attractive feet. One day the perfect feet do appear, attached to an attractive American named Catherine, who actually loves to have her feet worshipped. The happy couple stumble upon a man who creates specialty shoes for serious shoe lovers. Seeing Catherine's Michelangelo-like feet, the shoemaker, too, is overcome with their beauty and offers, for free, to make shoes for her for the rest of her life. These elaborate creations generally include snakeskin, bone, metal, and all sorts of other intimidating materials. Eventually, however, Catherine gets cold feet (pardon the pun) about the escalatingly strange relationship and runs off with a commercial foot-photographer, angering both narrator and shoemaker to a murderous degree. While the plot is threadbare and the book slight, Nicholson once again demonstrates his biting wit and his unmatched eye for capturing modern-day compulsions. A darkly funny tale with a kick even for the most foot-phobic. (First serial to Grand Street) -- Copyright ©1996, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved.