From the bestselling author of A Shed of One''s Own, a very funny memoir about being 60.Marcus Berkmann''s funny, instantly recognisable description of middle-age in A Shed of One''s Own struck a chord and turned it into a bestseller. Now he realises he has entered a new age category: the Young-Old.Well, the body continues to provide challenges (every group meeting seems to begin the dreaded ''organ recital''), and the bank balance may not be doing too well either - but it''s certainly not all doom and gloom. You have come to terms with your deficiencies and eccentricities (although your partner may not); your Fear of Missing Out has become Joy at Staying In; you have embraced the notion of the Power Nap - and though you''re not going to embark on a course of ''mindfulness'' you nevertheless recognise if living in the moment also includes walking to the local for a pint with an old friend then you''ll sign up for it after all...You could call it ''beerfulness''.''Berkmann is a fine observer of decline. He says what other men would rather not think about, let alone discuss. Another ten years pottering around in his shed and he''ll have cracked it'' Sunday Times

For many men, middle age arrives too fast and without due warning. One day you are young, free and single; the next you are bald, fat and washed-up, with weird tendrils of hair growing out of your ears. None of it seems fair. With age should come dignity and respect, but instead everyone makes tired jokes about buying a motorbike.Marcus Berkmann isn''t having it. Having marked his fiftieth birthday by hiding under the duvet for six weeks, the author of the cricket classics Rain Men and Zimmer Men is now determined to find some light in the all-consuming darkness. Musing over birth, death and all the messy stuff in between, he concludes that however dreadful you look in the mirror today, it will be much worse in ten years'' time. His brutally candid despatch from the frontline is not for the faint-hearted, which is to say anyone under thirty-five.

Marcus Berkmann is a competitive obsessive but where he was very bad at cricket (see RAIN MEN) he''s a brilliantly knowledgeable nerd and a great success at pub quizzes. He''s possibly the only man in Britain whom Nick Hornby is jealous of - because his team beat Hornby''s in a pub quiz and went on to win the EVENING STANDARD knockout tournament.This hilarious book will do for quiz culture - from Mastermind to Fifteen to One to the quiz in your local - what LOST IN MUSIC did for bad rock bands. Thousands of people take part in quizzes every week answering questions such as who won the League Cup in 1972 (Stoke City beat Chelsea 3-2) and which of Henry VIII''s wives was both a widow and a virgin when she married him (Catherine of Aragon)?Funny, informative, original: this book has all the answers - including the one to question six.

There are many cricket books, and they are all the same. ''Don''t Tell Goochie'', autobiographical insights of nights on the tiles in Delhi with Lambie and the boys; ''Fruit cake days'', a celebrated humourist recalls ''ball'' - related banter of yore; and Wisden, a deadly weapon when combined with a thermos flask. Rain Men is different. Like the moment the genius of Richie Benaud first revealed itself to you, it is a cricketing epiphany, a landmark in the literature of the game.Shining the light meter of reason into cricket''s incomparable madness, Marcus Berkmann illuminates all the obsessions and disappointments that the dedicated fan and pathologically hopeful clubman suffers year after year - the ritual humiliation of England''s middle order, the partially-sighted umpires, the battling average that reads more like a shoe size. As satisfying as a perfectly timed cover drive, and rather easier to come by, Rain Men offers essential justification for anyone who has ever run a team-mate out on purpose or secretly blubbed at a video of Botham''s Ashes.

Forty-seven years after NBC killed it off, Star Trek celebrates its half-century in a state of rude health. Boldly going where several other people have been before, Marcus Berkmann tells the story of this sturdy science fiction vehicle from its first five-year mission (rudely curtailed to three), through the dark years of the 1970s, the triumphant film series and The Next Generation, to the current ''reboot'' films, with a younger cast taking on the characters of Kirk, Spock, McCoy and co.With wit, insight and a huge pile of DVDs, he seeks to answer all the important questions. Why did Kirk''s shirt always get torn when he had a fist fight? What''s the most number of times Uhura said ''Hailing frequencies open, sir'' in a single episode? (Seven.) And what''s the worst imaginable insult in Klingon? (Your mother has a smooth forehead.)

Approaching its 200th birthday in the rudest of health, the Spectator is known for the quality of its writing and the deep eccentricity of some of its writers. Given the freedom to say what they want, they take that freedom and more, and the result is original, provocative, often very funny, sometimes plain wrong. From Jeffrey Bernard''s reports from the Soho frontline and Auberon Waugh fulminating about hamburger gases in the early 1990s, we encounter in turn the wild stream of consciousness of Deborah Ross''s restaurant reviews, the pinpoint etiquette advice of Mary Killen, Rod Liddle''s frothing but elegantly sculpted outrage and the magazine''s secret weapon, low life adventurer Jeremy Clarke. This bumper selection, which also includes eminent diarists, mad letter-writers and Boris Johnson, amounts to a masterclass in comic writing, lovingly compiled and edited by Marcus Berkmann, who still can''t believe he wrote a monthly pop column for the magazine for twenty-eight years without being fired.

Marcus Berkmann, author of the cricket classics Rain Men and Zimmer Men, returns to the great game with this irresistible miscellany of cricketing trivia, stories and more fascinating facts than Geoffrey Boycott could shake a stick of rhubarb at. Which England captain smoked two million cigarettes in his lifetime? Which Australian captain, asked what his favourite animal was, said ''Merv Hughes''? What did Hitler think of cricket? Which National Hunt trainer had a dog called Sobers? Who was described in his obituary as ''perhaps the only unequivocally popular man in Yorkshire''?No other sport is so steeped in oddness and eccentricity. There''s the only Test player ever to be executed for murder, the only first-class cricketer to die on the Titanic, and the only bestselling author to catch fire while playing at Lord''s. (It was Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The ball hit a box of matches in his pocket.) All cricket is here, including an XI entirely made up of players who share their names with freshwater fish.

Marcus Berkmann has been a freelance writer since 1988, working for newspapers and magazines and occasionally writing a book, like this one. He reckons to have written literally millions of words in that time, several of them in the right order. This, his 13th or possibly 14th book, is about those years of writing: the triumphs (few), the heartbreaks (many), the sackings (more than you would expect), the biscuits (many, many more than you would expect). In it he somehow makes the act of staring out of a window wondering what to say next seem both fascinating and, in some strange way, enviable, whereas, like most writers, he rarely leaves the house other than to go to the pub or the off-licence. Often asked how you become a writer, his advice remains: Please do not. There''s already enough competition out there and we don''t need any more. His advance for this book was about enough to buy a packet of Jaffa Cakes.

From the bestselling author of A Shed of One''s Own, a very funny memoir about being 60.Marcus Berkmann''s funny, instantly recognisable description of middle-age in A Shed of One''s Own struck a chord and turned it into a bestseller. Now he realises he has entered a new age category: the Young-Old.Well, the body continues to provide challenges (every group meeting seems to begin the dreaded ''organ recital''), and the bank balance may not be doing too well either - but it''s certainly not all doom and gloom. You have come to terms with your deficiencies and eccentricities (although your partner may not); your Fear of Missing Out has become Joy at Staying In; you have embraced the notion of the Power Nap - and though you''re not going to embark on a course of ''mindfulness'' you nevertheless recognise if living in the moment also includes walking to the local for a pint with an old friend then you''ll sign up for it after all...You could call it ''beerfulness''.''Berkmann is a fine observer of decline. He says what other men would rather not think about, let alone discuss. Another ten years pottering around in his shed and he''ll have cracked it'' Sunday Times

For many men, middle age arrives too fast and without due warning. One day you are young, free and single; the next you are bald, fat and washed-up, with weird tendrils of hair growing out of your ears. None of it seems fair. With age should come dignity and respect, but instead everyone makes tired jokes about buying a motorbike.Marcus Berkmann isn''t having it. Having marked his fiftieth birthday by hiding under the duvet for six weeks, the author of the cricket classics Rain Men and Zimmer Men is now determined to find some light in the all-consuming darkness. Musing over birth, death and all the messy stuff in between, he concludes that however dreadful you look in the mirror today, it will be much worse in ten years'' time. His brutally candid despatch from the frontline is not for the faint-hearted, which is to say anyone under thirty-five.

Marcus Berkmann is a competitive obsessive but where he was very bad at cricket (see RAIN MEN) he''s a brilliantly knowledgeable nerd and a great success at pub quizzes. He''s possibly the only man in Britain whom Nick Hornby is jealous of - because his team beat Hornby''s in a pub quiz and went on to win the EVENING STANDARD knockout tournament.This hilarious book will do for quiz culture - from Mastermind to Fifteen to One to the quiz in your local - what LOST IN MUSIC did for bad rock bands. Thousands of people take part in quizzes every week answering questions such as who won the League Cup in 1972 (Stoke City beat Chelsea 3-2) and which of Henry VIII''s wives was both a widow and a virgin when she married him (Catherine of Aragon)?Funny, informative, original: this book has all the answers - including the one to question six.

There are many cricket books, and they are all the same. ''Don''t Tell Goochie'', autobiographical insights of nights on the tiles in Delhi with Lambie and the boys; ''Fruit cake days'', a celebrated humourist recalls ''ball'' - related banter of yore; and Wisden, a deadly weapon when combined with a thermos flask. Rain Men is different. Like the moment the genius of Richie Benaud first revealed itself to you, it is a cricketing epiphany, a landmark in the literature of the game.Shining the light meter of reason into cricket''s incomparable madness, Marcus Berkmann illuminates all the obsessions and disappointments that the dedicated fan and pathologically hopeful clubman suffers year after year - the ritual humiliation of England''s middle order, the partially-sighted umpires, the battling average that reads more like a shoe size. As satisfying as a perfectly timed cover drive, and rather easier to come by, Rain Men offers essential justification for anyone who has ever run a team-mate out on purpose or secretly blubbed at a video of Botham''s Ashes.

Forty-seven years after NBC killed it off, Star Trek celebrates its half-century in a state of rude health. Boldly going where several other people have been before, Marcus Berkmann tells the story of this sturdy science fiction vehicle from its first five-year mission (rudely curtailed to three), through the dark years of the 1970s, the triumphant film series and The Next Generation, to the current ''reboot'' films, with a younger cast taking on the characters of Kirk, Spock, McCoy and co.With wit, insight and a huge pile of DVDs, he seeks to answer all the important questions. Why did Kirk''s shirt always get torn when he had a fist fight? What''s the most number of times Uhura said ''Hailing frequencies open, sir'' in a single episode? (Seven.) And what''s the worst imaginable insult in Klingon? (Your mother has a smooth forehead.)

Approaching its 200th birthday in the rudest of health, the Spectator is known for the quality of its writing and the deep eccentricity of some of its writers. Given the freedom to say what they want, they take that freedom and more, and the result is original, provocative, often very funny, sometimes plain wrong. From Jeffrey Bernard''s reports from the Soho frontline and Auberon Waugh fulminating about hamburger gases in the early 1990s, we encounter in turn the wild stream of consciousness of Deborah Ross''s restaurant reviews, the pinpoint etiquette advice of Mary Killen, Rod Liddle''s frothing but elegantly sculpted outrage and the magazine''s secret weapon, low life adventurer Jeremy Clarke. This bumper selection, which also includes eminent diarists, mad letter-writers and Boris Johnson, amounts to a masterclass in comic writing, lovingly compiled and edited by Marcus Berkmann, who still can''t believe he wrote a monthly pop column for the magazine for twenty-eight years without being fired.

Marcus Berkmann, author of the cricket classics Rain Men and Zimmer Men, returns to the great game with this irresistible miscellany of cricketing trivia, stories and more fascinating facts than Geoffrey Boycott could shake a stick of rhubarb at. Which England captain smoked two million cigarettes in his lifetime? Which Australian captain, asked what his favourite animal was, said ''Merv Hughes''? What did Hitler think of cricket? Which National Hunt trainer had a dog called Sobers? Who was described in his obituary as ''perhaps the only unequivocally popular man in Yorkshire''?No other sport is so steeped in oddness and eccentricity. There''s the only Test player ever to be executed for murder, the only first-class cricketer to die on the Titanic, and the only bestselling author to catch fire while playing at Lord''s. (It was Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The ball hit a box of matches in his pocket.) All cricket is here, including an XI entirely made up of players who share their names with freshwater fish.

Marcus Berkmann has been a freelance writer since 1988, working for newspapers and magazines and occasionally writing a book, like this one. He reckons to have written literally millions of words in that time, several of them in the right order. This, his 13th or possibly 14th book, is about those years of writing: the triumphs (few), the heartbreaks (many), the sackings (more than you would expect), the biscuits (many, many more than you would expect). In it he somehow makes the act of staring out of a window wondering what to say next seem both fascinating and, in some strange way, enviable, whereas, like most writers, he rarely leaves the house other than to go to the pub or the off-licence. Often asked how you become a writer, his advice remains: Please do not. There''s already enough competition out there and we don''t need any more. His advance for this book was about enough to buy a packet of Jaffa Cakes.