A Huge Mistake

By John Fullerton Many years ago I sat down and wrote a black comedy. It was set in Cuba, a country I confess I don’t know at all – though I wish I did. The novel featured a pimp as anti-hero. He catches the clap himself and ends up in prison, but finds...

Len Deighton’s spies

By John Fullerton I’ve always enjoyed Len Deighton’s novels, but in my late teens and early twenties I was only interested in ‘what happens next’ and I wasn’t mature or patient enough to appreciate them as I should. I’d buy each new book and read it hungrily and with...

Would I spy again?

By John Fullerton It’s a sunny Saturday at Newlands rugby ground in Cape Town. We’re back in the 1960s. Squatting on my heels behind the touch line along with my schoolfellows, I’m watching the all-white Springboks play the British Lions. Every time the ‘boks score,...

Still learning how to write

By John Fullerton     Perhaps you are not old enough to have begun your writing career with a typewriter. I certainly am. Aged 19, I joined my local paper as a trainee – a cub reporter – and sat facing a large, heavy-duty manual machine with keys that made...

A very special place in hell

By John Fullerton The other day someone – a stranger – tweeted that there was a very special place in hell for journalists who work as spies. It caught my attention partly because there has to be a special place across the Styx reserved in my name because...

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