Raconteur Peter Holt tells Andy Richardson how he is aiming to make us laugh with a new book.

Peter Holt

In the politically-correct noughties, how about this: “A lady begins to know when she is shooting well when the men stop telling her that she is.”

Or, try this for size: “Well, Boy George walked into my office one day, dreadlocks and make-up all over the place. The other staff looked agog. ‘Who the hell is that’? they seemed to say.”

Or, how about this: “I can’t count Paul Weller as a friend. I slagged him off, you see. I later saw him at Wembley and he dedicated a song to me. I’d better not tell you what he said, that sort of language might offend readers of the Shropshire Star.”

Laugh, if you dare, settle back in your easy chair and pour yourself a generous malt as we welcome you to the wonderful, irascible world of Shropshire author and raconteur Peter Holt.

Former Fleet Street journalist Peter lives at Orleton Hall, on the outskirts of Wellington. His family moved there when he was 11. He was schooled at Eton, before decamping to the less glamorous confines of Darlington Technical College, where he completed a course in journalism. Though he had the run of Orleton Hall, he hankered for the bright lights of London and left Shropshire for 20 years.

Initially, he worked at the South London Press and his career soon took him to the Old Bailey, where he reported on some of the biggest crime trials of the late Seventies and early Eighties. He launched his own gossip column and was snapped up by the Evening Standard. For seven years, he wrote Ad Lib, a glib and pithy slot that attracted plenty of attention.

“It was a pop column, though pop music during the Eighties was pretty drab. We’d just come out of punk and it was as though it never happened. There were supergroups and new romantics, very uninspiring stuff. I took to the old punks, like Sham 69 and Captain Sensible.

“We ran a contest once where the prize was to have Captain Sensible singing in your living room. The people who won it came from Holland Park. We took him there, played a record on their deck and he mimed along to it. It was great fun.”

Another time, Boy George demanded an audience with him.

“It was just before their first hit. I was the first person to write about him. He came in and told me about his band then gave me a tape. He was very outlandish.”

The Jam’s Paul Weller – an artist notoriously scornful of journalists – had a spectacular falling out with Peter. There were plenty of other incidents, but Peter eventually tired of his poptastic life.

He continued to write and packed himself off to India to write about Lord Clive of India, his Shropshire-based five-times grandfather. The resulting book, In Clive’s Footsteps, was followed by The Big Muddy, a travelogue based on a journey along the Missouri River and Stars On India, an adventure in search of the subcontinent’s fortune tellers.

During the mid 1990s, Peter moved to Shropshire for a more bucolic lifestyle. As a boy, he’d shot rabbits, at the age of 11, before moving on to driven game three years later.

“I can’t say I’m a good shot,” he says.

“Though shooting is a sport where one improves with age.”

Peter became more of a countryman, running the family property at Wellington and spending much of the winter shooting. He be-gan to move in genteel social circles and met Andrew Johnston, the Wykey-based publisher son of famed BBC cricket correspondent Brian “Johnners” Johnston.

Peter decided to write his latest book, the fast-selling Keen Shot’s Miscellany, towards the end of a jocular dinner party.

“It was fairly late in the evening and I was talking with Andrew,” he says.

“We came up with the idea of a book about shooting, that was in the form of a miscellany. There are lots of books that are geeky or techie, but we wanted to do something that was a bit more fun that people could dip in and out of. We came up with the title, then giggled about it for 20 minutes.”

Keen Shot’s Miscellany was released at the end of 2008 and sold 4,000 copies right away. It’s expected to sell many more over coming years.

“It’s been doing really well,” says Peter.

“It’s proving to be my most popular book yet.”

The book features such gems as: “A lady begins to know she is shooting well . . .” All other subjects are covered, from advice on what to do if “antis” invade your shoot to tips from legendary 19th-Century shot Sir Ralph Payne-Gallwey. There are plenty of anecdotes from across the Atlantic, including this from rock star Ted Nugent: “My idea of fast food is a mallard”.

Peter says: “There are those who get quite upset about shooting and claim all the pheasants are dumped in a pit. They’re not, of course. Game that is shot goes into the food chain. The shooters take birds home or they go to game dealers and into supermarkets or patés.

“The Miscellany took six months to write and it was great fun to research.”

The success of the book has already taken Peter on to a new project.

“I can’t say what the subject is,” he adds.

“Though it’s another Miscellany.”

Peter spins in his chair, returning to his library and computer.

“I’ve got a lot of research to do,” he adds.

And we leave, so that he can continue.