From 70s rocker to muesli man

AFTER a string of successful novels, Tony Parsons has finally penned the one story he's been dying to tell since he was a fledgling music critic.

Stories We Could Tell is a semi-autobiographical tale of sex, drugs and rock'n'roll, set on the summer night in the 1970s when Elvis died.

''It's essentially a novel about friendship,'' he explains. ''I really wanted to write about young people, about your early twenties when you just want to be accepted, because everybody goes through it all. It's just part of being young, not having a clue about where your life is going to end up or who you're going to love,'' says the 51-year-old.

Tony admits that he needed a bit of distance - the best part of 30 years - before he could write it. ''Technically the most difficult thing was to try to capture what it really felt like back then - you know, there were certain little clubs in London where you could go to watch live bands like The Clash for a quid and then help them put their gear in the back of the van afterwards.

''I just wanted to tell my story from both points of view, young and old, and being a parent myself has helped because now I know what it's like to be both an irritating parent and a very difficult son.''

At 22, Tony began his career on NME (New Musical Express) - the British equivalent of Rolling Stone - after he answered a job advert for 'hip young gunslingers', submitted his novel The Kids, and was subsequently snapped up by then editor Nick Logan.

''Now I know I now sound a bit like Vera Lynn saying, 'We made our own entertainment' but it was exactly like that - the Swinging 60s was very much about the select few like Paul and Ringo, but the 70s was for everyone,'' he says. ''It was totally unregulated and the world was awash with drugs - and the way it works is that it's usually the most outrageous stuff in the book that's true. These days it's all muesli and Pilates for me but that's life I suppose,'' says the father-of-two.

''It is kind of autobiographical, as I was working on a music paper that night, and yes, the core of the narrative is how it felt like to be me on that night. But it's always a little bit different in fiction, like drawing someone's face - even if you really try to make it look exactly the same, it never quite does.''

Covering emerging new punk bands such as The Sex Pistols and Blondie, as well as interviewing rock legends like Bruce Springsteen and David Bowie, Tony not only landed his dream job but also met his ex-wife Julie Burchill, then just 17.

Despite an acrimonious divorce and many weary years of slagging each other off in print, Tony is quick to point out that his ex-wife is definitely not parodied in his latest book - although she certainly provided the catalyst for his hit novel Man And Boy when she walked out, leaving him alone to bring up their four-year-old son Bobby.

''If Julie is in the book at all, she is simply there in the friendship between the three guys - she was my best friend for years and years,'' he says.

He's been married to second wife Yuriko for 13 years, with whom he has a three-year-old daughter Jasmine.

Tanned and relaxed from his recent family holiday in Hong Kong, Tony shows a very different side these days as he talks fondly about going for long walks with his little girl and how much she makes him laugh. And making the personal universal is something he says he always tries to achieve, with themes such as love and friendship running throughout his novels.

In fact, he's been so successful at getting to the very heart of real life and its many complexities that Julia Roberts has snapped up the movie rights to The Family Way.

''She read it when she was pregnant and just loved the book - in fact, she's the only true fan I have in America, the only one who believes in me,'' he beams. ''I only wrote the screenplay because she wanted me to as nobody else in Hollywood would let me anywhere near it - they don't like writers on the same continent as them but nobody can tell Julia Roberts that what she wants to do is a bad idea.

''It's like being in the court of Elizabeth I and you feel like Sir Walter Raleigh, 'Give this man ten ships and all the resources he needs' kind of thing.''

However, drawing on such personal life experiences isn't all Hollywood movie deals and fat pay cheques - it can often conjure up some very painful memories, and Stories We Could Tell is no exception.

''I lost a couple of really great friends at that time who I was very close to - tragically, they both died from drugs,'' he says.

''One of them was Phil Lynott, the black Irish guy who was in Thin Lizzy - they were the first band I went to America with, and he was just like a big brother to me, showing me the ropes and all that, so writing the book brought it back.

But in the aftermath of both the good and bad times, Tony has absolutely no regrets about getting out of the 70s music scene when he did.

''By the time I'd done three years on NME I'd really had enough and I became a dad a year later so I'd had my fill of it all,'' he confirms. ''We used to have Screwdrivers for breakfast just to start the day! It was great but it took its toll and you either bailed out at 24 or 25 or you stuck with it and paid the price - simple as that.'