The nice folks at the Charleston City Paper have tarted up their website a bit to make things easier to find. New pages include archives devoted to staff and freelance writers, including yours truly.

I don't feel old enough to be put in an archive, but if you want to read some of my stuff all you have to do is click here. Enjoy!

“Why do people think it’s Christmas?” my son asked me yesterday. “It’s not even Thanksgiving yet, but everyone thinks it’s Christmas.”

As far as my 5-year-old’s concerned, grown-ups are a confused bunch. I agree. With temps around 80 degrees here and pumpkins still in my neighbors’ front yards, please forgive me for not feeling very Christmasy yet. Don’t get me wrong – I’ve already made a wish list a mile long – but it’ll be mid-December before I’m imbued with seasonal esprit.

This confession comes from a professional Santa, as I have worked as Mr. Claus for the City of Charleston’s Holiday Magic since 2003. I’ll be ho-ing again next month, and when I see the enthusiastic faces of the children who visit me, I’ll run screaming – no, seriously, I’ll realize once again what all the fuss is about – their happiness.

If you’re going to write a gritty thriller, you need a rich and colorful setting, somewhere with plenty of vibrant characters and intriguing vistas. A place with a mysterious edge that still has elements familiar to readers.

Thomas Kelly managed to find the right location for his previous novel, The Rackets. The book’s sense of place and tangible atmosphere made it ripe for a TV adaptation, courtesy of ABC. Empire Rising (published by FSG) is set in the same city – New York – but this time there’s a twist; it’s set in the 1930s, as the Empire State Building is being constructed.

The place and time are ripe with possibilities for an author who creates Machiavellian politicians and brawling bottom feeders. In fact, he doesn’t have to stretch his imagination too far – the kickbacks, corruption and contrasting sense of optimism were all present on the brink of the Depression.

Kelly’s main characters are linked by the Empire State Building itself, dominant, majestic, and symbolic of the power players who frequent the decadent ‘21’ Club. This establishment is a great contrast to the South Bronx, depicted in all its destitute glory. The inhabitants of both are well-drawn and their dialogue maintains a bold authenticity. Only their roles seem artificial – each character has a background and a function to keep the story moving, but there’s nothing fresh about them.

However, the period setting is so effectively rendered that any hokey character contrivances can be forgiven. Kelly knows New York well, picking out new details on a well-worn path, the perfect guide on a Manhattan mystery tour.

Last year I mentioned November 5th, a time of year where we have parties all across the breadth of Britain, running round with naked flames and fireworks and generally keeping the fire brigades busy.

Bonfire Night celebrates the scuppering on a gunpowder plot by the 17th Century’s Public Enemy Number One, Guy Fawkes, a miserable terrorist who tried to blow up the Houses of Parliament.

These days we’d probably give him a medal, but back then the Royal Court encouraged a commemoration of the event where we burn Guy in effigy. I thought that the inhabitants of the USA never miss an excuse for a party, but this holiday seems to have slipped by – and on the 400th anniversary of the botched bombing, too. So I was pleased to find a crowd of Revolutionary re-enactors who knew the words to, “Remember, remember the fifth of November” better than me.

They lit a bonfire at the end of their Camden Fair, filled a Care Bear with fireworks and let rip. I think Guy would have approved (apart from the bit where he’s thrown on the bonfire, of course).

For those of you brave enough to want to see my ugly mug on the Scrittapura website, you can find it by visiting Gli Autori. Alvim's mugshot is my favorite.

The sexy Italian cover has also surfaced - v. cool.

Traffico di latte, the Italian translation of Milk Treading, has arrived in Italy. I look pretty miserable compared to the other authors on the Gli Autori page of Scritturapura, the publisher's website.

They quote a New York Times review: "Always amusing, this is surely the most original novel of political intrigue." Gotta love those Italians. Keep your fingers crossed for me, I hope it does well over there...

Last Night for Goering

Tonight marks the last performance of Goering at Nuremberg, which I’ll also be videotaping tonight. The logistics of simultaneously filming a play and appearing in it are kinda complicated, but at least it means that I’ll get all the best close ups, and people will be able to see my wig.

In fact, most of my friends don’t realize it’s a hairpiece. I’m wearing it to hide my long hair (grown for the Captain Felder movie) and the fake stuff is woven in with my own greasy locks. I look about 13 and for some strange reason, my wife likes the look.

When I saw my bewigged self in the mirror for the first time, I saw a face I hadn’t seen for at least 15 years – I hadn’t had my hair so thick and light brown since I was at secondary school. It was good to see me again, although I’m happy with my own hair thank you very much.

As an actor, I’ve never paid as much attention as I should to hair and makeup – I usually just sit there and let the pros do their stuff. But their transformational effect is not to be sniffed at, and I plan to boss my barber around in future.

Anyway, I have the least significant role in this show. The hard work’s being done by Clarence Felder (reprising his Broadway role as Goering), Michael Easler as his counsel, Rob Gorman as his psychiatrist and the rest of the cool cast and crew.

Last night we gave a special performance for the military cadets at The Citadel, Charleston, as part of their ethics programme. This is important stuff. The youths who watched the show will be fighting to prevent future war crimes from being committed. They have to care.