WHO would have thought a crime festival could be such fun?

From Mark Lawson’s dog to a gloriously foul-mouthed opening turn from Christopher Brookmyre, there were plenty of laughs to be had at this year’s Theakston Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival, held last weekend at the Crown Hotel in the town.

Broadcaster Lawson introduced the festival by showing pictures of Fred, his Jack Russell. Taking inspiration from the World Cup predictions of Paul the octopus, Mark encouraged his dog to pick the crime novel of the year by laying all the contending books on his lawn. And the broadcaster’s mutt chose RJ Ellory’s A Simple Act Of Violence – as did the judges a week later.

As for Ellory, who once spent around six years writing 22 novels in longhand while getting over a divorce, he was left with almost nothing so say, such was his astonishment at the honour.

“I am utterly speechless,” he said. “This has really taken me aback. I feel acknowledged for doing something different. Thank you, I am grateful beyond words.”

Veteran crime writer Reginald Hill, always a favourite at this festival, was awarded the first Theakston Old Peculier Outstanding Contribution To Crime Fiction Award. He made a brief, touching and wittily turned acceptance speech, in which he said friends had pointed out that any award with ‘old’ and ‘peculiar’ in the title could only go to him.

This year’s festival was chaired by the Aberdeen writer Stuart MacBride, who chose well – especially in Christopher Brookmyre, who could surely make a living as a more intelligent sort of stand-up comedian, should writing best-sellers ever lose its appeal.

Ian Rankin, the creator of Rebus, held an enjoyable ramble of a conversation with fellow crime-writing Scot Val McDermid. Both writers returned on the Saturday, Val to introduce four crime writers in a ‘new blood’ session, and Ian to chair a four-way conversation entitled, No I’m Ian Rankin, between those said, mostly misleadingly, by publishers to resemble him.

Joanne Harris, whose latest novel, blueeyedboy, is a psychological thriller, gave an interesting, thoughtful talk on her writing, from Chocolat onwards. Martyn Waites chaired a lively debate between Ray Banks, Stella Duffy, Charlie Williams and Craig Russell about how much crime writers appear to enjoy torturing their own protagonists.

Too many events to recall in full, but space should be made for a fascinating and lurid lecture on forensics, in which three experts examined fictional murders to see how realistic they were. The lugubrious Professor Dave Barclay and the booming Dr James Grieve – another Scot, what a lot there were – gave very informative and entertaining turns.

It isn’t possible to end without a mention of Agatha Christie, whose undying ghost still flits behind all crime fiction, and her enduring appeal was fully discussed in a session in her honour.

So this is probably not the place to own up that I have never read one yet.