Like most of us, I enjoy the apocalypse. Ruined landscapes, violent gangs, unnatural hazards, mutations and the lack of law appeal these days. It’s a great sign. There’s nothing tastier than the image of our world turned horrifically upside down, revealing starving cannibals, vicious slave masters and our landscapes laid barren.

Bob Crampsey (1930 - 2008) remains the most respected man there has ever been in Scottish football. If you knew what it was like to listen to him on the radio, then you’d probably imagine what a pleasure it is to read a whole book by him. Aside from being a master of style, storytelling and anecdote, Bob Crampsey retained facts in a way that few other people could.

Ramsay Campbell is unpredictable, and it’s kind of hard to guess what you’re going to get. I wouldn’t put The Nameless (1981) at the forefront of the Ramsey oeuvre, because although it starts well, it transitions to the climax too slowly for me. It's good horror, yes, though it may depend on what you’re reading for I guess, and I'm more of a shock a minute type of reader.

The Overman Culture (1972) by Edmund Cooper is without doubt the strangest, most unreasonable, far-fetched, peculiar and probably unnecessary story ever told. The mystery hangs together very well, but its explanation is not far from drivelsome. It’s a mercifully short book, and I say merciful because a pay off like that, even with a reasonable build up, is probably not worth the wait.

Perhaps you’ve read some of James Blish’s more well-known works and not known it? If you spent any time either in your youth or adulthood reading Star Trek novels, then the chances are high. That’s because it was Blish wrote the many authorized short story collections based upon the 1960s TV series Star Trek - 11 volumes in all, adapting episodes of the series.

I always liked mad books; I used to like anything I could get on the Bermuda Triangle, and I particularly like David Icke, and anyone else who has a world-shatteringly crazy theory that sticks out at a sharp right angle to the norm. The Spaceships of Ezekiel (1974) contains truths that were in evidence on printed paper, long before the internet ever buzzed to life, making it a rarity.  I mean everybody gets their fix of this stuff online, these days. But there is still a place in my heart for Josef F. Blumrich.