Michael White: 127 books

Kevin Green is his school cricket team's perennial twelfth man. On the unlikely occasions that he gets to play he bats eleven, doesn't bowl, and fields at fine leg. Then one day his form teacher, Mr Woodhouse, asks him to play a real game - for Highfield men's team. Kevin finally has a chance...

Jimmy Wentworth is known as a stonewaller and has no chance of making the team for the Twenty20 knockout cup final. That is until he receives a mysterious message, and begins to grow a rather famous beard ... Searching for W.G. is the fourth in Michael White's Tales from the Village Green series....

In Scripting Jesus, Michael White, famed scholar of early Christian history, reveals how the gospel stories of Jesus were never meant to be straightforward historical accounts, but rather were scripted and honed as performance pieces for four different audiences with four different theological agendas....

Despite incredible political, military, and intelligence risks, and after six years of secret preparations, the CIA attempted to salvage the sunken Soviet ballistic missile submarine K-129 from the depths of the North Pacific Ocean in early August 1974. This audacious effort was carried out under the...

Giordano Bruno challenged everything in his pursuit of an all-embracing system of thought. This not only brought him patronage from powerful figures of the day but also put him in direct conflict with the Catholic Church. Arrested by the Inquisition and tried as a heretic, Bruno was imprisoned, tortured,...

Tales from the Village Green - Collected Tales Volume 1 brings together the first five of Michael White's well-loved stories about heroism and friendship on the village green cricket pitch. The stories included in this volume are Never Give Up, The Substitute, The Twelfth Man, Searching for W.G. and Grandad's Old Bat.

"Me dad use to say that in Liverpool there was always a ghost next door. As a kid I spent many a dark night huddled under the covers in case the ghost from next door decided it liked our house better, because we didn’t seem to have our own ghost so there must definitely be one at number eleven....

Charlie Horse has very set ideas of just how his pub should be run. No food (apart from crisps and nuts) and very definite ideas about what kind of customers are welcome in his hostelry. Until one day an inspector calls... Please note this is a short story and is quite difficult to categorise...

Final thoughts from the now-deceased leader of narrative therapy. Michael White’s untimely death deprived therapists of a leading light. Here, available for the first time in book form, is a collection of the work he left behind—writings on topics dear to the psychotherapeutic world: turning...

"Keith had a problem with some things but others were okay. Matchsticks, for example. He did not like them. When he had started work at the office the canteen chairs were not so good either. It was the way the chair legs scraped on the floor if someone moved them. It made him wince, and he definitely...

This is a big, big park. There’s nobody more aware of that than I am. Although there are more or less sixty constables in the Liverpool Parks Police force, there are more parks than Sefton to look after. We cover the bloody lot! At any one time there are probably about twenty of us in Sefton Park...

My name is Sheila Teresa Roberts and I’m a lipstick girl. Or at least that’s what some people call me. Others can be just a bit more brutal. To hell with them, I say, though I would say it quietly, and perhaps under my breath because believe it or not, I was brought up to be, and am, a good Catholic...

“The Sound of Guitars...” Liverpool. A city of poets, musicians, comedians and several banana shaped lamb statues. Oh, and a yellow submarine – and a cathedral (or two), and now a collection of fifteen short stories, tall tales and mysterious occurrences celebrating the city as well. Wrapped...

"My name is Kaeso Desticius Catulus of the Valeria Victix 20Th legion, tenth cohort to the Centuria commanded by Mithra blessed Alexis, of the Contubernium led by myself, ten days fresh from Deva and sent straight to the heathen wall. You may call me Catulus...." Please note...