One thing that depresses me loads is when you see the same authors – and often distinctly average ones at that – being talked up on the discussion lists, generally because they happen to be list members or because someone has met them at a convention and wants to gush that they spoke to A Real-Life Writer.
And then there are the writers where you can't understand why everyone else isn't raving about them. Everyone's got their own 'why the hell isn't Joe Bloggs famous' or 'what on earth happened to …?' list. I could name you a stack of writers who are criminally under-rated and who seem to have fallen off the face of the earth – Jack Dickson, Denise Danks, Karen Kijewski and Pat O'Keeffe spring to mind.
For what it's worth, then, here are six authors who appear to be alive, well and still writing but who in my fallible opinion don't get the attention they deserve. And if you check them out, you'll find they're all class acts. In no particular order. . .
Stuart Pawson
His police procedural series, set in a fictional town in Yorkshire, is an absolute delight all through. The books, featuring DI Charlie Priest, are like eating chocolate with chilli in. You’re loving the smooth taste until all of a sudden there's a distinct bite there. Pawson is witty and a polished storyteller, but perhaps his greatest attraction is the world he's built around Charlie, with larger-than-life colleagues and small-town life.
Susan Kelly
Kelly's police procedural series also takes place in a small town – but this one's real (Newbury in Berkshire) It features a hero who has enough personal baggage to be interesting, but not so much that it's same old, same old. Det Supt Gregory Summers is approaching 50 and shacked up with his 20-something daughter-in-law following the death of his son. Kelly never over-does the private life angst, but provides us with well-rounded and believable characters. She tells a damn good story and plots very neatly.
Josh Lanyon
Hands up all you straights who have read Josh's books? Bet there's not that many of you – and you're missing out big-time. The stories feature Adrien English, a bookseller in Los Angeles, who has a talent for finding trouble and has a rather confusing relationship with a way back in the closet cop. The first two books in the series were published by Gay Men's Press in the UK. When the publishers went under, Lanyon had to self-publish the third, The Hell You Say, with iUniverse, which is absolutely scandalous when you look at some of the dross that's coming out of mainstream publishers.
Maureen Carter
This choice will please my blogmate Lynne Patrick, but she knows very well that I only rave about a book if I genuinely enjoy it. Carter's series, featuring feisty Birmingham cop Bev Morriss, has crackly dialogue, nails the atmosphere of the UK's second city, and brisk and fluent storytelling. It'd work like a dream on TV, but jumps off the pages as it is. Bev's no glossy heroine, but Carter makes you care about her.
Martin O'Brien
Read O'Brien's police procedural series, set in France, and you'll believe you're driving down country lanes, the smell of lavender all around, and with an appetising lunch waiting for you at a village bistro. The hero's a rugby player-turned-cop with his own way of doing things, but the maverick angle doesn't overpower the story. And O'Brien's dry humour helps the story along.
Cynthia Harrod-Eagles
If you like Reginald Hill, you'll adore Harrod-Eagles, who writes witty police procedurals with a dark underbelly. She's obviously got a cult following, but her books rarely get mentioned, which is a crying shame, as they're full of ebullient language and a likeable main character in the shape of DI Bill Slider. I particularly love her little cameo characters as well as the interplay between Slider and his sidekick DS Jim Atherton. But under the surface humour there's always some unsettling for Slider, both privately and professionally.
By the time you've read this blog, I'll have thought of another dozen writers I could easily have mentioned. And you're all probably sighing and rolling your eyes and muttering: "Damn woman's got no taste. Why didn't she mention …?"
