Charlie Says

I have a new book out soon. It’s a short, snappy novella about ritualising risk and courting controversy to attain the things we want, and it’s called Charlie Says.

That title might sound familiar to readers of a certain age. Was anyone who grew up in the 1970s and 80s not scarred by the public information films on British TV? Those terrifying little portents slipped surreptitiously in between the cartoons were only fifteen or thirty seconds long but, by God, they caught your attention. Don’t play with matches, or old fridges. Or kites or frisbees, should you happen to be near a pylon or electricity substation. Be careful crossing the road and running along the beach. And also near ponds and lakes, or when swimming in the sea. And never, ever talk to strangers.

And, around the same time, don’t forget there was Protect and Survive too. A full set of matter-of-fact instructions for what to do in the event of nuclear war. Paint your windows white, make a fort out of doors and mattresses, stockpile canned goods. It was a time of national existential dread. Is it any wonder that those films are now considered a keystone of the collective Horror imagination in the UK?

I had a vague idea to do something around the public information films in story form for a long time, but it was an idea that lay dormant until I realized two things. Firstly, that there was an element of ritual to them reminiscent of folk horror, but in the urban environment rather than the usual remote country settings. And secondly, that those films were what Britain was scared of fifty years ago. What I ought to be writing about was what really terrifies me about this country now.

That was when it all came together. A reformed enfant terrible stand-up comedian finds it impossible to leave his past behind him as he gets drawn back to the housing estate he swore he’d never return to. It’s a story of social inequality, bigotry and the ways that communities enable the worst things to happen. It’s a story of ritualising risk. Taunting everyday dangers.

Apologies to everyone with fond memories of that ever-sensible, danger-aware cartoon cat, Charley. He doesn’t feature in this story, but he was clearly part of the inspiration for Cat, the evil, enabling psychopomp that has haunted Charlie, the story’s protagonist, his whole life.

And I have to tell you upfront that Charlie Says features characters with pretty nasty right-wing beliefs. To quote Ray Clulely’s generous endorsement on the cover, “Consider yourself warned.”

If you’re new to the concept of public information films and want to know why British people in their 40s and 50s are like they are, many of them are available to watch via The National Archive.

And, continuing the theme, I’m delighted to have been asked to be one of the instructors in the Spring Scares series of Horror writing workshops. My session will be on exploring Urban Folk Horror, and I’ll be mentioning Charlie Says once or twice.

Charlie Says is published by Black Shuck Books on February 29th, but you can pre-order it right now.