Award-winning crime author William Shaw has signed a two-book deal with HarperCollins imprint Hemlock Press

Julia Wisdom, publisher of Hemlock Press, has acquired UK and Commonwealth rights excluding Canada for two novels.  The deal was negotiated by Karolina Sutton at CAA. The first book will be published in summer 2025.

Shaw, who is best known for his highly regarded crime novels set in and around Dungeness, is creating a new series to be set on the south Devon coast. This introduces Eden Driscoll, a detective inspector with the Met, whose life is upended when the news comes through that his sister has gone missing off the coast of Devon, and the young son he never knew she had is now his responsibility.

Wisdom said: “William Shaw’s combination of brilliantly realised settings, beautifully delineated relationships and highly intriguing plots makes him an exceptional crime author.
“I’ve long been a fan of his Dungeness-based books, and am thrilled that we have the opportunity to launch a series that promises to deliver on all three fronts: a stunning setting and suspenseful story, with a touching and emotional family bond at its core. The quality of his writing, the strength of his plotting and the depth of his characterisation makes him a perfect fit for Hemlock Press, and we are all looking forward to working with William on future books.”

Shaw said: “I’m excited to be setting this new series in a part of Devon I grew up in and love. It’s a beautiful coastline, but it’s changing fast and there’s a great deal going on under the surface. That means there’s a lot for me to write about and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed creating a cast of characters to explore this world.”

Sutton said: “William Shaw is one of the most exciting and sophisticated British crime writers writing now. His ability to marry great intrigue with a sense of place with astute social observation reaches new heights with this series. Old and new fans are in for quite a ride.”

“William Shaw now rivals Ann Cleeves in the art of combining compelling mysteries with evocations of Britain’s landscape, although his stamping ground is further south than Cleeves’s Shetland: the haunting coast around Dungeness. This fifth novel to feature DS Alexandra Cupidi finds her joining a wild-swimming club after one of their number drowns in odd circumstances. Apart from wanting to box Shaw’s ears when he placed one of my favourite characters from the series in danger, I spent most of the book applauding his artistry.” ★★★★★ Jake Kerridge, The Daily Telegraph

Great ones too in The Mail On Sunday, the Literary Review, The Times and The Irish Independent.

He leaves a massive hole. No other writer in crime fiction cared as much about how to represent truth as Chris did. He worked with phenomenal diligence to unearth the facts behind each of his stories.

I hadn’t seen him since January, when I dropped round to say hello before I left for Ireland and he gave me a copy of a Lawrence Osborne book to read, enthusing about how good it was.

The first time I met him was at a writing class we went to. I remember our tutor’s jaw dropping to the table when Chris read what was to become the opening paragraphs of what was to become Dissolution. In fact he already had the title, I think.

When the course was complete, he finished his manuscript and started working his way through the agents section of the Writers and Artists yearbook. One of the things I’m proudest of is that I told him not to do that. Instead, he should try and send it to three people he admired to get a quote on the manuscript so he could stand out on the crowd. As far as I know he sent it to two. One as a critic, who thanked him in a few words, but who said nothing useful. The other was PD James who wrote back swiftly, asking if she could share the manuscript with his agent. That started. a 23-year-long working relationship – and friendship – between himself, his agent Antony Topping and his editor Maria Rejt. Together they produced an incredible nine novels.

Roz, myself and the other members of the small writers’ group we formed after the short course continued to read his work as it was being created. Because he was so keen to do the best work possible, he appreciated other people’s eyes on it. And in return, he read and commented in ours. Fittingly, when my turn came around to submit my first novel A Song From Dead Lips, it was Chris who gave me the quote I needed to get people in the publishing industry’s attention. It was like getting a gold star before you’d even started.

We stayed friends. He was always loyal to our book group. Two of the novels include dedications to us. When he gave us copies, we always checked to see if our names were in the back. They always were.

When his last novel Tombland was published, he asked me if I would interview him for the launch event at Norwich Cathedral. There were 800 people in the audience that night. We talked for an hour about his career and his absolute attention to detail. I am so glad I did that. I would love to se that interview again. Chris was a very private man. He hated the attention being a public figure brought him, but that night the waves of love for him and his work that came from the audience were extraordinary.  I am so glad he was there to witness how much he meant to everyone in that place that night.

Roz and I – and Jan – from the group read the first 20,000 words of what would have been his next book Ratcliffe, set in London at the dawn of Elizabethan mercantilism. It would have been wonderful if he had been able to finish it, but years of cancer had left him exhausted. It’s so sad that he didn’t finish, but what an incredible legacy he has left.

It has been the wettest of winters. Right now it’s pouring outside. The house I’m living in on the west of Ireland is built on old bog land. The water lies immediately under the grass of the scrappy lawn. Where I’ve planted trees, it comes right to the surface, making little ponds. Giving in to the wetness, I’ve scavenged some flag irises and planted them at the wettest parts.

The best thing I did before coming to Ireland was buy decent wet weather gear. I’ve become used to walking with the sound of rain on the hood of my waterproof.

In terms of writing the book, it’s been great. Solitude has concentrated the mind. I know barely anyone here and winter is not the time to connect. A lot of the time it’s really just been myself here – so much so that when I do strike up a conversation I sometimes find my voice is barely there. My vocal cords have forgotten how to work properly.

But I don’t think it’s healthy for a writer to spend too much time on their own. In the end, we need to see people doing the ordinary stuff people do. I remember during covid, worrying that ideas would dry up if we sat inside all the time. At the weekend I drove 45 minutes to Anascaul to have a conversation with a writer I know a little who had been visiting Dingle. It was great. We spent an hour bitching about the vicissitudes of the publishing industry, which is always a writer’s happy place. Thanks Sinéad.

It’s always a bit of a dilemma for writers. We want time on our own, stories come from company. Spring is on its way, however late. The house is about to fill with house guests. I’m simultaneously excited the prospect of seeing everyone and grumpy that my solitude is about to vanish.

I would be delighted if you could join me, to launch the new DS Alex Cupidi novel The Wild Swimmers at The Mermaid Inn, Rye, Mermaid St, Rye TN31 7EY.

To RSVP, please complete the booking form below.

There will be drinks, a short discussion of the book and an opportunity to buy personalised copies.

The event is free, but booking is essential. Places are limited, so if you book a ticket and can’t make it, please let us know so we can pass the place on.

And it’s not brilliant for the head either.

I need a neurologist here. Help me out. Is there a reason why not writing is such a useful part of the writing process? I’ve found out, time after time, that leaving the keyboard and doing something where the brain works in different ways is great when you’re writing, because when you sit back down again, you always see the book in a slightly different way. That conversation you were writing that was lumpy and awkward suddenly finds a new flow. That background character steps forward and says something invaluable. And so on.

Anyone else find this?

Anyway. This is yesterday’s walk, up the side of Seefin, which I can see from my window. There are several Seefin’s in Ireland, literally the Seat of Fionn – the legendary leader and poet Fionn mac Cumhaill.

You trip over legends around here. From Seefin you look down at Rossbeigh Strand, which is where Oisin and Niamh rode their horses to the land of Sir Na nÓg when Niamh’s father was displeased with her choice of lover.

So you’re kind of walking into stories wherever you go here anyway. Here’s a stream I crossed on yesterday’s walk:

I’ve been here over a month now and it’s quiet round here in winter. I’ve slid into a great routine of starting writing at about 8am-8.30am and carrying on until after lunch when I head out for a walk. While I love Brighton, there’s no opportunity there of being able to head straight out of my door into this kind of countryside. And walking is kind of essential when I spend so much time sitting and staring at a screen.

Not too shabby. The end of the rainbow is in Dingle Bay which I can also see a slice of from my desk.