Criminally good fun to be had at the Theakston Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival

Crime may be deemed an odd form of entertainment, but this grisly distraction seems unlikely to go away, never mind how many real horrors the world continues to deliver.

The festival is a surprisingly cheerful event, almost as if writers who spend their lives closeted in deathly conundrums atone for their bloody sins when in company. Apparently, you have to attend a gathering of romance writers to really see blood on the carpet, or so the crime lot maintain.

The opening night honours the crime novel of the year and grants an award to a noted writer, followed by a party at which the sponsor’s Old Peculier is freely available (the brochure says this fine ale will “help you keep your feet on the ground”, but strictly speaking the reverse may be true).

Broadcaster Mark Lawson is the master of ceremonies. Last year, Mark had earlier asked his dog to pick the crime novel of the year. He laid the contenders on the lawn and the perspicacious mutt chose RJ Ellory’s A Simple Act Of Violence, which did indeed win.

In his speech last Friday, Mark said people had asked him to do this again, but sadly he could not. It had emerged his dog had been hacking into the judges’ phones, and that was how he had predicted the result.

With or without canine assistance, this year’s winner was Lee Child for his latest Jack Reacher thriller, 61 Hours – the first time this British-born US-based writer has won an award, although he does have worldwide sales of 50 million in compensation.

The Outstanding Contribution To Crime Fiction award was given to PD James, something which brought the packed audience at the Old Swan Hotel to its feet. Baroness James gave a warm, spirited acceptance speech, and somehow witnessing her pleasure was really quite moving.

To dash through those events I attended, the talks began with Dreda Say Mitchell, chair of this year’s festival, interviewing the doyenne of Essex crime, Martina Cole, whose nicotine rasp proved illuminating (once you could tune into what she was saying).

A real-crime session saw author and journalist Duncan Campbell interview Erwin James, prisoner turned writer, Cass Pennant, onetime hooligan and now a writer and publisher, and Jonathan Aitken, journalist, politician, prisoner and now a campaigner for prison reform.

Noel ‘Razor’ Smith, a lifelong criminal turned writer, was absent, apparently due to nothing more sinister than a mix-up over dates.

This session was one of the most fascinating, especially in the honest way Erwin James, once imprisoned for murder, confronted his guilt at having been offered a chance at rehabilitation.

From the rest, the stand-out event was Tess Gerritsen, US writer of medical thrillers, being interviewed by Jenni Murray. What a super-smart, wise and interesting woman.

Val McDermid’s New Blood panel, introducing new writers, was as good as ever (if envy-inducing to those of us still slogging away on the crime-writing city limits); Andrew Taylor, who made many fruitful appearances this year, presented a left-field discussion on crime fiction touched by the paranormal; and American writers Lisa Gardner and Linwood Barclay proved an entertaining double act.

Finally, it is worth repeating a frequent conference question: do crime novels feature too much sexual violence against women?

A defence of this trait was put by Val McDermid, who argued women were more aware of the harm that could be done to them, and were therefore more naturally tuned into potential terror. Men, she said, assumed they would be okay.

And who are the most voracious readers of crime novels? Women. And female readers, according to Val, like to scare themselves and can more easily imagine themselves as the victim, which adds to the thrill.

Well, it’s an argument that won’t go away. And neither will this criminally entertaining festival, which will be back next year for its tenth anniversary.