Like many veterans of the 60s, my parents pride themselves on their openness about subjects their own parents’ generation considered too taboo even to acknowledge. When it comes to candour about these matters my mother, who is not only a former hippie but French, is doubly credentialed.

So whenever she and I go to the movies, I try not to think twice if the poster features a scantily clad woman or if the review has warned of explicit sexual content, as it did when we went to see Brokeback Mountain.

After all, why should a mother and son feel any discomfort about watching a man lubricate his penis with his own saliva, right before thrusting it into Jake Gyllenhaal with all the explosive, repressed passion of a lone gay cowboy in a red state?
Under normal circumstances, that particular scene probably wouldn’t have made much of an impression on me. It’s just that, with your mother sitting right beside you, you may, even in spite of the most cosmopolitan attitudes, begin to worry that some small, irregular motion on your part will betray you as reacting to the fleshy images with anything other than detached interest.

You suppress the urge to breathe deeply, taking your air in small sips. Your oxygen debt gradually accumulates, and when you finally give in, heaving as if your life depended on it (because it does), you look up at the screen to find Heath Ledger in the middle of a groaning, pyrotechnic orgasm. As he collapses in a heap of post-coital exhaustion, your mother, having caught the escalating rise and fall of your shoulders out of the corner of her eye, asks you how you’re doing.

Shortly after you’ve started to take your mind off breathing, Ennis and Jack are scampering by the stream in their full frontal glory. At this moment, it comes to your attention that your boxer shorts are tightly bunched around your inner thighs, and you realize that you won’t be able to tolerate the discomfort for much longer.
Your hands inch slowly toward the front of your pants to loosen the offending cloth. When you finally discover that it won’t budge because you’re sitting on the slack, you attempt to manage without hands, squirming your hips restlessly in the seat – just, as it happens, as the two men’s wet, muscular frames lock in a passionate kiss.

The credits roll, and the two of you emerge quietly into the late afternoon glare. She finally ventures to break the silence. ‘God, Jake Gyllenhal is so sexy, don’t you think?

Peter James, British film producer turned best-selling crime novelist, is distinctly charming, well-spoken and precise. And although his subject matter does revel in a sense of chilling horror – the grimy, criminal underbelly, men buried alive, brutal murders, and most recently, human organ trafficking – the way that James talks about his rather macabre subjects is engaging, rather than purely chilling or designed to shock.

James has written over 20 books, been translated into over 29 languages, and ridden high on the top of the Sunday Times bestseller list with his most recent books which feature Brighton-based Detective Superintendent Roy Grace. The books have quickly become one of the world’s most popular detective series, and this is in no small part due to the well thought-out and thoroughly researched plots. James’ latest book, ‘Dead Tomorrow’, focuses on the struggle of a mother whose daughter is suffering from liver failure, who turns to a black market broker to find the vital organ. Meanwhile, Detective Roy Grace follows the grim trail of child traffickers to Eastern Europe. The subject matter is evidently harrowing and shocking, so does James plot his books with this in mind, with topics picked for their scare factor?

‘I write about what I’m intrigued by,’ he tells me as he sits across the table, in a small bar-slash-restaurant-slash-coffee chain, as he drinks alternately from a beer and an espresso. He leans forward with a glint in his eye, ‘Do you know how much your body is worth?’ I become slightly unsure of where is this interview going. ‘On average, about a million dollars. $400k for your liver, the same for your heart and lungs, $60k for each kidney, a bit more for other bits and pieces… You’d make a lot of money, if you could live without your heart.’ I place a protective hand over my liver. Again, athough part of this speech is clearly designed for impact, it is a subject James knows a huge amount about and just wants to share. There is almost too much to take in, as he flits from anecdote to fact, and back again.

‘An English doctor was struck off for buying kidneys from Turkey. I met him and he said to me, ‘You can survive well on one kidney, and there are people dying because they can’t get one. Why would anyone have a problem with it?’ In India, the going price for a kidney is £250. For us to buy it, once it’s gone through the middle men, you are talking £25, 000. China lowers the threshold of the death penalty every year. They get a million pounds a body.’ And why is this happening now? Sadly, what has happened is that as organ transplant techniques have gotten better, the supply of donors has gone down.

‘The big irony is that the biggest cause of the decrease is more people wearing seatbelts in cars. The perfect donor is someone who has a head injury, and dies with his or her body intact. Now with modern cars being stronger, if some is killed in a crash they’re normally pretty badly mangled. But, certain countries have realised that there’s a business to be had. I used to think it was an urban legend, you know, the man who meets a pretty girl in a bar, goes back to a hotel room, and next thing he wakes up in a bathtub short of a kidney. It’s not.’

‘Do you know how much your body is worth? About a million dollars.’

James’ fascination with organ trafficking started almost seven years ago, when James met Kate Blewett, the documentary maker behind Channel Four’s harrowing ‘The Dying Rooms’, who talked to him about her new subject matter. ‘She’d heard about this organ trafficking trade. Kate sent two researchers out to Columbia. They were both murdered. She couldn’t go on with the documentary, but she said that I could have her research. It went on from there. In Columbia there will be two kids begging at an airport, cop arrests them, sells them for £50, and they get a nice upbringing in the countryside, get to the age of thirteen, fourteen and someone in the West, their daughter needs a new liver, and that kid disappears. Their liver sold, heart, lungs. It is going on.’

But, surely it couldn’t be that easy to get hold of, say, a liver? It’s not exactly the type of thing you can type into Google. ‘I actually met a couple who live in England – one of the biggest focuses of my research – and their son from about the age of eleven had progressive liver failure, and they couldn’t get him to the top of the transplant list. And they were told he’d die.

So they went on the Internet, and found a broker, who found them a liver for about £200-300,000, and they started raising the money. Luckily, a liver came through, and they were ok but…’ The ‘but’ hangs in the air, a testament to the tangle of morals around the subject. This is where the tone of our conversation changes, from fact-swapping to something much more emotionally charged. James meticulously researches his stories, and he seems to have a real engagement with the ethical dilemmas behind his plots. ‘Dead Tomorrow’ displays a real knowledge of the human suffering that forces some people to the lengths of buying and selling their own body parts. James spent a lot of time in Romania, just talking with the people who had suffered under the oppressive regime of Ceauşescu.

‘Seeing street kids was heart-breaking. It was really hard, the hardest thing was the sheer desperation, thousands of people living way below the poverty margin, literally in holes in the road, just to be by the central heating pipes. All the youngsters want to get out and their dream is to come to some western country… although I say western, it’s outrageous, Romania is western. It’s in the EU and it shouldn’t be there. It’s a third world country.
You drive one mile out of the city and you’re in slums, and then the slums give way to several hundred miles of rubbish. The first time I went I thought, ‘Hmmm, it’s snowing.’ And then I realised it was just litter.’

‘Hell will freeze over before a crime novel gets onto the Booker shortlist.’

It is clear that his interest in writing stems from wanting to draw attention to things he feels have been overlooked, or unfairly confined to the background – and this applies as much to the British police, who James joins on average every week on their daily rounds from murder scenes to rehabilitation centres, as it does to the harrowing organ trade. ‘I think they [the police] are severely underappreciated. The public have this slightly jaded view of the police; they think they’re not actually out there fighting crime, but in the course of a career, almost every police officer, almost without exception, will have his life endangered.’ And could he be a police officer? He says very simply, ‘I don’t think I’d be brave enough.’

Brave enough, however, to be a crime writer in a literary world that still sneers at the genre. When asked why this is, it seems that James can’t quite answer. ‘I get really annoyed. The chairman of the Booker prize, three years ago was asked, ‘Why is there never a crime novel on the booker shortlist?’ and he said, ‘Hell will freeze over before a crime novel gets on the book shortlist’. So, that means Dickens would never have made it; Deschosky, Shakespeare, Aristotle…so many writers have written what we would now consider to be crime fiction. My point is that people get very precious about literature.’ James made a very brave move to start writing crime – he began when horror was the genre du jour and made the leap of faith to a different publisher who supported his vision.

His final word on the matter? ‘Writers are entertainers; the writers that survive are the popular ones.’ And there is no doubt that James is and will continue to be a popular writer, although he goes beyond the merely entertaing. Advice for budding writers? ‘Is to read. Do not be afraid to say, ‘I love this book’, whether it’s Stephen King, or Rankin, or Trollope, whatever it is that you love, and think, ‘how did that writer make that book so great?” James has achieved prolific status and though he may never make it on to the Booker shortlist, or even the longlist, his crime novels are reviving and revitalising an often pigeonholed genre in a way that he hopes might remove some of the literary stigma.

Described by John Peel in 1997 as ‘the very heart of Oxford’s music scene’, the Cowley Road has links with all the great bands that have come out of Oxford. The video for Radiohead’s first single (Creep) was filmed in the Zodiac (now known as the O2 Academy). Supergrass recorded their earliest single, ‘Caught by the Fuzz’, in the nearby bedroom of a friend, while two songs on their debut album (‘Strange Ones’ and ‘I’d Like to Know’) were inspired by the area.

Today it’s arguably the most cosmopolitan part of town; the one place which truly has the feel of a modern city, where the streets are not deserted past bed-time, where you can find a Polish produce shop (what English city is complete without a Polski sklep?), where the bells of Christ Church are (almost) out of earshot.
‘We’ve wanted to bring that SXSW vibe to our home town for ages – and now we have. We’re really excited about showing off just what the Cowley Road has to offer, and although it’s indoors, feel free to wear your wellies and get into that festival mood,’ says Robin Bennett, festival organiser.

And so it is that brothers Joe and Robin Bennett, the folks behind local festivals Truck and Wood, have teamed up with Oxford music promoters YouMeDancing! to honour and celebrate this most creative part of the city’s landscape.
On Saturday 10th October (the end of 0th week) OX4 will be taking residence at ten venues up, down, and just off the Cowley Road, from the Academy to G&D’s.
Anyone familiar with Truck, Wood or any of the other festivals put on by these guys will know to expect a whole assortment of events. OX4 Festival goers can confidently expect to get more than just music for their money. Expect anything and everything from music to comedy, workshops and debates.

Truck (pictured above) has come a long way in its eleven year history but remains unique and completely independent. Bands like Ash and The Lemonheads play alongside old timers like Damo Suzuki (of 70s krautrockers Can) and Garth and Maud Hudson (Garth having played organ for The Band). The main stage is still the back of a truck and the vicar still sells his homemade ice-cream.

Wood – a springtime eco-festival that’s been going only two years – is equally distinctive. Amongst its wonderful quirks are bicycle-powered discos, the biogesic pleasure domes, the make-shift loos, and, of course, the eco-friendly structures, including the entirely wooden main stage.

Less well publicised, though no less noteworthy, are the wild nights the Bennett brothers have occasionally staged at the Working Men’s Club in Wallingford, a picturesque Thames-side market town just half-an-hour’s bus ride outside Oxford.
The whole town shows up to get their faces painted and listen to live music , with a backdrop of classic movie clips – I’ve seen people go crazy over cheese auctions there.

OX4 looks set to fit right into Truck’s repertoire, with music of all different genres as well as an array of other cultural entertainment events and activities. Hammer & Tongue will be hosting a poetry slam (12.00-5.00 at G&D’s). Catweazle Club – an open mic event where anything goes – will be running in its usual location of the East Oxford Community Centre (7.00-10.00). There’ll be comedy in the form of ‘The Free Beer Show’, and creative workshops such as ‘Write a Film Script’, and ‘Design the Next Magic Numbers LP’ will be happening at various points during the day.

In the spirit of creativity and independence, OX4 is also the launch for Oxford’s first Un-Convention (a music industry event – see over the page for more details). Oxon Carts will also be on hand to rickshaw you about between the attractions.
‘Hard partying’ will bring the festival to a close. An OX4 ticket (priced at £15, or £12 if you’re under 18) gets you into Transformation at the Academy, where Trashy and Room 101 will also be happening. Alternatively, there’ll be reggae at the East Oxford Community Centre, or electro at Baby Simple.