Greetings smut-hounds, just a quick note from the high-security geriatric unit I call home to keep you abreast of my current activities.

First of all, I have another award on my mantelpiece - for the anthology BEST EROTIC FICTION 2009 which I edited, with Richard Labonte (Cleis Press - where else?). Thanks to the Lambda Literary Awards.

Secondly, my debut novel THE LOW ROAD will be back in print very soon (autumn 2009) after spending many years in the twilight world of second-hand stores, where it's been fetching absurdly high prices (not a penny of which goes to me, I might add). So please, if you haven't already read it, treat yourself. It's a ridiculously filthy reworking of RL Stevenson's KIDNAPPED (already one of the most homoerotic books ever written) and it features a novel method for preparing potatoes.

Finally, there's a new Mitch Mitchell mystery on the way in spring 2010, entitled A STICKY END. I don't want to give too much away, so I'll just say it's my version of the "locked room mystery" and it features Mitch and Morgan in some of the most interesting situations I've ever forced them into.

By the way, you'll notice that I've had to censor the cover of THE LOW ROAD in order to get past the eagle eyes at MySpace. Yes, there is a picture of a bare bottom on the cover. I know, it's shocking. In a world in which governments trade in arms that blow up children, it's good to know we're safe from the corrupting influence of a pair of muscular buttocks.

Love
James

Greetings all. Just a quickie to let you know that I'm a finalist in this year's Lambda Literary Awards, with two books featuring in the (three) nominees for Best Gay Erotica. They are THE SECRET TUNNEL, my most recent novel, and BEST GAY EROTICA 09 which I edited and introduced. Results due at end of May so fingers crossed.

Meanwhile, THE LOW ROAD gets a timely republication in the autumn, and the new one which I'm currently writing will be out in spring 10.

Best regards
James

Pay attention, smuthounds - Cleis Press are reissuing my first ever novel, THE LOW ROAD, in autumn 2009. So please don't be tempted to shell out the £104 that it currently costs on Amazon - money that I will never see, by the way, unless the dealers feel like paying me a commission. Wait, instead, for the leaves to fall, and you will have the brand new edition with a much sexier cover.

The old cover looks like this:



I always thought the boy on the left, who I presume is meant to represent the hero, looks a little bit "special".

Here's how the new cover is currently looking (ignore the blurb, it's just dummy copy):



Which is much nicer. But let's not be surprised if Photobucket bump that one for violating their rules. If you can't see it, it depicts a sexually attractive naked man viewed from the rear, lying on a satin sheet, which is frankly how sexually attractive men should be seen.

Meanwhile, I'm starting work on the brand new novel which will be out in spring 2010, it's another Mitch Mitchell mystery, and I promise you that it will be a) filthy and b) unputdownably, page-turningly thrilling.

Time for my rest.
Love you all
James

There's a very nice feature about "women who like gay porn" in today's METRO. Page 19, if you happen to have the print version at your fingertips. Otherwise it's here

I feel in very good company, what with professors and such like.

While I'm on - does anyone share my feelings for Steven Gerrard, the Liverpool footballer?



I understand he's been "beset by groin injuries". I'd like to help him with those.

Last night, in a deconsecrated church in Brixton, I was named "Writer of the Year" at the Erotic Awards. I'm very pleased, and I hope that this will give a hint to closed minds in the publishing industry that good gay fiction has as wide an appeal as any good fiction. It's not just read by three old wankers in a bedsit.

The judges decision was all the more surprising given the overall heterosexuality of the event. I have to say, there was very little for my type there, which, given that the Erotic Awards celebrate sex in all its diversity, was a bit of an oversight.

Anyway, the large golden winged phallus which I graciously accepted looks very nice on my desk. Obviously, to keep MySpace pure, I can't show it to you. However, I urge you to buy my new book THE SECRET TUNNEL at Amazon UK or, if you're in the US, direct from Cleis Press

Depending on where you live, my new novel THE SECRET TUNNEL is out either now or imminently. My spies in the US tell me it's "in stores" already. Shops in the UK will have it in the next few weeks, given favourable conditions on the Atlantic.



It's a sequel to THE BACK PASSAGE, in which our detective hero Mitch Mitchell boards a train from Edinburgh to London and is soon up to his neck in murder, intrigue and, of course, cock. If you can be up to your neck in cock. All set in the glamorous 1920s. Yes, it's my Murder on the Orient Express.

As well as the usual imaginatively-described sexual intercourse, THE SECRET TUNNEL also features members of the royal family as you have never seen them before.

Other news: in a few days I'll know whether I am "writer of the year" at the Erotic Awards (finals: 12 September). I shall be appearing at various places in November to launch the new book: watch this space for details. And finally, regular readers will be interested to know that on my recent cultural exchange trip to Beijing, I met a very attractive Czech decathlete hanging around the Olympic Village, to which I had a pass. His name is Roman Sebrle, and he's certainly added a couple of new "events" to the regulation ten.

I'm deeply grateful to the young people at Time Out magazine, who have given THE PALACE OF VARIETIES a rave review, with five stars. (Perversely, this is out of a possible six, but I won't be mentioning that very often.)

David Llewellyn, a person of obvious insight, says:

"James Lear's novels Hot Valley and The Back Passage have dominated gay erotic fiction charts since publication ... Just a few pages in, the secret of Lear's success becomes blindingly apparent. Practically every page is graced with an abundance, a pornucopia if you will, of graphic bonking ... but it's not just the sex that keeps you reading. Lear's prose is vibrant and colourful ... This isn't porn accompanied by a wah-wah guitar, this is porn to the strains of Beethoven's Ode to Joy, each vividly realised ejaculation accompanied by a fanfare and the crashing of cymbals."

How true.

If you agree with David, and frankly who wouldn't, please make your feelings known by writing something lovely on Amazon. If you disagree, bugger off and read some Henry James. You deserve each other.

And here's a lovely photograph of me groping a nearly-naked man at a recent literary event.



All in the name of literature.

Even at my advanced age, one can still have new experiences. I have been shortisted for the Erotica Awards, in the writer category. (What? I hear you cry, not in the sex worker or stripper category?)

This is the smut equivalent of the Booker or the Costa, and unlike those prizes recognises books that actually make you feel good, rather than wanting to throw yourself under an uncoming train.

The Awards will be announced at a ceremony in September that, frankly, looks like it's going to be an orgy. Wish me luck.

As I hope you know by now, my latest (re)publication, THE PALACE OF VARIETIES, is all about prostitution, so I have no qualms about shouting my wares in the virtual knocking shop that is MySpace.



As you can see, I'm rather dominating the field of lesbian and gay erotica at the moment, at least in the UK. Admittedly it's not a very big field, but I'M THE DADDY goddammit.

While I have your attention, can I say two things?
Firstly, you can see me in the flesh, and hear my thoughts on gay porn, at an event at the Southbank Centre on 5 July, entitled DIRTY BOOKS. More information here

Secondly, can I just say that my obsession with England captain John Terry is getting out of control? I've almost persuaded myself that he and Frank Lampard are lovers, so often are they photographed together, and what a lovely couple they make. But watch out, "Lamps", he's mine mine mine you hear me mine.

The nice people at ABC Radio National in Australia managed to reach me at the "retirement" home yesterday, for a quick chat.

You can hear the conversation here