SAN FRANCISCO, 2010

A First-Person Introduction To My Website

Apparently I’m supposed to write a new introduction to my website. Further apparently, convention dictates it must be written in the third person:  “Paul Carr is...” this or “Critically-feared writer, Paul Carr...” that.

That convention has never really made sense to me, particularly when it comes to writers. I mean, THEY’RE SUPPOSED TO BE WRITERS - what message does it send that they can’t even write their own introductions? Not a good one.

So here we go.

My name is Paul Carr, and I’m a writer. A writer who lives permanently in hotels.

My most recent book - The Kings of the Road Club - is the story of how I came to have that slightly curious lifestyle, and the ludicrous events that followed. It will be published in November 2010 by Weidenfeld & Nicolson.

For the first part of what I laughingly call my ‘career’, I edited various publications and founded numerous businesses with varying degrees of abysmal failure. After getting fired from every job I’ve ever had - including at least two where I was my own boss - I realised it was easier to write about other people’s success than to have any of my own.

That realisation lead me to write Bringing Nothing To The Party: True Confessions Of A New Media Whore, the story of my not-entirely-successful attempts to become a famous Internet billionaire, which was published in 2008 - also by Weidenfeld & Nicolson. For reasons beyond my comprehension, people seemed to like the book, with the Spectator choosing it as one of their Business Reads of 2008 and various other reviewers around the world saying ridiculously nice things.

To fill the time - and financial black hole - between books, I write a weekly column for TechCrunch, loosely focussing on how technology is fucking up the media. Before I moved to TechCrunch, the column appeared in the Guardian newspaper under the heading ‘Not Safe For Work‘. A heading which proved to be apt as I was fired from there too (for the second time), before moving briefly on to the Telegraph, from where I was also promptly fired.

When I’m not writing for other people, I keep a seldom-updated blog on which I generally discuss topics too weird, libellous, self-indulgent or dull to sell to anyone. The most recent post, and links to the archives, can be found here.

What else? I’m 30 years old. My drink of choice is dark rum and Diet Coke but for reasons outlined here, I can’t drink it any more. I worked as a magician for four years. I have a degree in law. I’m a sucker for a heist movie. I knows the lyrics to every Barenaked Ladies song and every novelty rap from the early-to-mid 90s - and I own one pair of shoes.

I’m writing this from room 2121 of the Intercontinental Hotel in San Francisco, the city where I spend most of my time. I also regularly find myself in London, New York and mainland Europe.

If you’d like to contact me, from professional or personal reasons, the relevant information can be found here. (If you’re wondering whether I’m still off the booze, your answer is here. If you’re reading this to decide whether to work with me or date me: don’t. Seriously, I’m awful; it’ll end in tears.)

Ok, that’s it. Thanks for visiting.

Lots of love,

Paul