Palace Pier

In the early 1960s, a golden age for newly-discovered writers, Chris Duffy
was something of a nearly man. His debut novel was reasonably successful;
his second was turned down as being too like the first. Thanks to procrastination
and heavy drinking, he has published nothing since.

Settled now in Brighton, where he ekes out a living running a market bric-a-brac
stall, Duffy dreams of the blurred d...