The long-term reader of the JT knows only too well that I have a penchant for reading crime fiction. A penchant betrayed by the occasional parody of the genre that have appeared in the past on these very pages.

But, what none of you knew is that over the past few years I’ve enjoyed email chats with one Campbell Armstrong, a Scottish crime and thriller writer based in Ireland. Long story short, Campbell’s got a new book out and he’s kindly acknowledged The JT as a source of fun. Campbell has developed, over a good few books, a Jewish detective character (Perlman) who roams the mean streets of Glasgow and "Butcher" marks his latest outing. While I happily admit that I’m a bit snobbish when it comes to crime fiction, tending to prefer the US variants, nevertheless I thought Perlman’s first outing, (the novel ‘s called The Bad Fire if you’re interested) was one of the best Scottish-set crime novels I’d ever read.

And that’s normally how I evaluate crime writers, you read their books, you like or you don’t like their work, end of story, fade to black, roll end credits.

But that working method, with regard to Campbell’s stuff, went a bit awry because I happened to read a memoir he’d written, I think in 1999 or 2000, that retailed the death of his wife, Eileen, from cancer.

If you can get a hold of this book, titled "All That Really Matters" in the UK or "I hope you have a good life" if you inhabit the North American part of Foreign, you’d be doing yourself a favour. I’m a bit reluctant to describe a book where someone suffers a painful death as life-affirming, but I’m a bit stuck for other superlatives.

Not wanting to spoil the book for you, I don’t want to go into a lot of detail – it’s probably better that you come to it cold, as it were. But what has stuck with me is in getting some insight into Campbell’s life as a man whose happens to write fiction, (NB. Campbell doesn’t come out of the book especially well) is the contrast presented by the cosy certainties of fiction and how messy, cruel, wonderful and uncertain real life is. And with very few exceptions, crime fiction follows that cosy path, as a genre it might be the ultimate literary trompe d’oeuil, on the surface "gritty" and "realistic", but at root a neatly packaged exercise in fantasy. And maybe that’s why I like it, if I’m honest.

To be fair to Campbell, some of his US-based output has explored darker areas with ambiguous or downright unhappy endings, and they make a very unsettling read, perhaps because that type of crime fiction is nearer to the truth we live day to day: that there aren’t always happy endings.

Listen, this is getting way too serious. Just enjoy Campbell’s books and be sure to buy Butcher because I’m on commission although I haven’t told Campbell about that bit yet...

PS: If you want to follow up Campbell’s work, visit his website: http://www.campbellarmstrong.com/