Hello pilgrims. A reminder that you can now pre-order my upcoming book, No One’s Coming to Save You: the Escape of David Rhoiney, ahead of its release on 8 December (publisher’s website | Amazon).
The more pre-orders the book gets, the better chance it has of getting momentum in the wild west of release week. So, if you think you may one day want to read it, or if you know someone who would, then pre-ordering now would help give it the best possible start.
If you’re thinking “what on earth is Ed talking about,” I wrote about the book here.

I accidentally bought a cool letter

Every time I walk past a charity shop I stop to see if they are selling any film books. If they are, I must buy them. It’s a sickness, I suppose. More often than not my search is futile, but occasionally I stumble across some real tasty treats.

Honestly, I didn’t have a Scooby who “C.A. Lejeune” was. I still don’t really, beyond the tidbits I’ve picked up from a quick flick through. Buckle up for a short list of biographical facts. Lejeune was:

One of Britain’s first film critics, and wrote for the Observer (a Sunday newspaper) from 1928 to 1960.
An early advocate for cinema as an art form, rather than an idle pasttime.
Friends with Alfred Hitchcock.

The book was edited (this is important, so bear with me) by her son, Anthony Lejeune, a well-known conservative writer and broadcaster in the UK, who died in 2018, aged eighty-nine.

So far, so vanilla. But then I open the book to discover an envelope, within which is a letter dated January 9, 1992. Judging by the colour of the ink and the hand edits and the crinkly faded envelope and whatnot, it seems to be the original letter rather than a copy.

Already I’m thinking this is pretty cool. Was this book originally Anthony’s copy? How has it made its way to this little charity shop? Did anyone know the letter was in here?

Then I notice that the letter is from someone called “Priscilla,” and that the mysterious Priscilla (1) had recently retired from National Review; and (2) had a sister called “Patricia Bozell.” So I start Googling. Turns out this someone is Priscilla Buckley, who was the managing editor of National Review for twenty-six years. She died in 2012, aged ninety. Her brother was the famous American conservative (and founder of National Review), William F. Buckley Jr.

It appears that Anthony Lejeune worked as the London correspondent for National Review. He must have sent Priscilla a copy of the book while on the hunt for an American publisher. The letter is Priscilla’s response. It’s fascinating! Both for the warmth and sharpness of her feedback, and for the inside-publishing tittle tattle, the likes of which must continue to happen today (her point about leveraging the Conservative Book Club is smart!)

I’ve shared the letter below, with some personal details blanked out (I ummed and ahhed about whether it was bad form for me to share it at all, but figured its OK given its historical interest and the fact that both sender and recipient have died). And the story has a happy ending: the book appears to have eventually found an American publisher - Applause Books (which is now owned by Bloomsbury).

I’m pausing paid subscriptions

The moral of the above story is: buy more second hand books! But that shouldn’t stop you from buying new books as well, like, now you mention it, MY BOOK WHICH YOU CAN NOW BUY YES PLEASE THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

Pre-order No One’s Coming to Save You today.

Infinite Books | Amazon US

I’m currently in Hustle Mode^TMahead of the book’s release on 8 December (did I mention that you can now buy the book?) so I haven’t been writing on here as much as I’d like to.

I’m pausing all paid subscriptions for the time being as my spindly little fingers aren’t working hard enough to justify you spending your hard-earned cash on a subscription. I’ll resume them once I’m back up to normal speed.

But if you do want to spend your hard-earned cash on something, then let me share a few endorsements that might help point you in the right direction

Buy No One's Coming to Save You

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I Accidentally Bought a Letter From William…