Prepare for the celebrity book war

So here's a quick survey of some of this year's big punts.

Stirred but Not Shaken
by Keith Floyd
(Sidgwick and Jackson, £18.99)

A surprisingly bitter account of his life from the bibulous TV chef and restaurateur, who died, aged 65, shortly before publication.

Observations about food, travel and the business of hospitality are served up with raw spleen about TV colleagues, admen (who gave him work) and "freeloaders".

Big disclosure: Floyd bluntly and brusquely comes clean about his failed relationships (including four divorces and a punch-up with his son), bankruptcies and alcoholism. But he doesn't mention the 44-year-old who turned up at his memorial service this week claiming to be his unacknowledged daughter.

Sex factor: He's chivalrous to wives and girlfriends, spiky about the randy fans he used to invite to his Irish pub, Floyd's Inn (Sometimes).

Funniest line: As a soldier, Floyd is barred from Churchill's funeral procession after "accidentally" shooting his bed.

All his own work? Ghost James Steen is both acknowledged and credited.
More to come? Unlikely.
Happy bunny? No. Nick Curtis

It's Not What You Think
by Chris Evans
(HarperCollins, £20)

The DJ and TV presenter turned media mogul offers up a relentlessly perky but surprisingly self-aware tale of his rise from Warrington council flat to radio revolutionary to "tosser".

The book ends in 1997, just as he buys Virgin Radio from Richard Branson.

Big disclosure: At 21, Evans fathered a daughter, Jade, with whom he has only latterly had regular contact. More surprising are Evans's admissions that his "outrageousness" during his days hosting Radio 1's Breakfast Show were a sign he'd shot his creative bolt and that his decision to resign on air marked him out as "a loser".

Sex factor: Respectful, polite accounts of various relationships and one marriage, to work colleagues, and a description of snogging Kim Wilde in a tent on The Big Breakfast.

Funniest line: "There is a good side to cats — that's the left-hand side, cooked medium rare with a garlic sauce" (a line that got him fired from Manchester's Piccadilly Radio).

All his own work? Apparently.
More to come? Of course — the Ginger Media/Billie Piper years.
Happy bunny? Yes. NC

My Favourite People
and Me 1978-1988
by Alan Davies
(Penguin/Michael Joseph, £18.99)

The comedian, actor and QI panellist charts his growth from boyhood to maturity, between the ages of 11 and 21, by recalling those he worshipped, admired or simply fancied at the time: footballers rub shoulders with Farrah Fawcett, Paul Weller, Rik Mayall and, eventually, Brecht, Sophocles and his long-lost gran.

Big disclosure: Young Al — whose mother died when he was six — flirted with Thatcherism and knee-jerk racism before settling on Benn and Kinnock as political idols.

Sex factor: Alan snogs Bobby Moore's daughter, Roberta, in a toilet, tries to cop off with a girl at Greenham Common, and — in his chapter on Debbie Harry — details "a strange, synchronised masturbation ritual" helmed by a lad called Gary on a school trip to Naples.

Funniest line: "You lick ash tray?!" (Davies's phonetic rendition of a teenage Singaporean girl who mistakes him for singer Rick Astley).

All his own work? Yes.
More to come? Inevitably: this book ends as Alan is just starting his stand-up career.
Happy bunny? Yes. NC

Saturday Night Peter
by Peter Kay
(Century, £20)

The sequel to the cuddly comedian's surprisingly joyless but bestselling first memoir of his early life, The Sound of Laughter, this is an anecdotal account of his first five years in stand-up (with rather more gently observational jokes than the first book).

Big disclosure: Disclosure isn't really Kay's thing, although he does own up to once having "a little puff" on a joint, and reveals that Johnny Vegas pulled the plug on their nascent double act, hinting that Vegas wanted the stage to himself.

Sex factor: Zero, apart from occasional chaste references to "my girlfriend Susan", and his mother's certainty he'll be drugged with Rohypnol and raped in a back alley at his first Edinburgh Festival.

Funniest line: Kay suspects he was let go as Michael Parkinson's warm-up man after introducing him with the words: "Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me enormous pleasure to sit on bath taps and welcome Mr Michael Parkinson."

All his own work? Yes.
More to come: Probably: his TV shows and Comic Relief, mentioned here, may warrant a separate book.
Happy bunny? Mostly, but a tendency to whinge and settle old scores. NC

Ooh! What A Lovely Pair: Our Story
by Ant & Dec with Andrew Milligan
(Michael Joseph, £20)

Hopefully presented by the publishers as "the book everyone's been waiting for" by these "national heroes", this book's text is divided into sections in bold (Declan Donnelly) and sections in italic (Ant McPartlin), so that those of us who have never quite bothered to identify which one is which have another chance.

This simulation of their on-screen backchat makes for a singularly wearing read, though, incessant chirpiness not being one of the great narrative modes.

Big disclosure: None, really. Too nice. Quite detailed about Bushtucker Trials, though. "What you see on your telly is a very edited-down version of what happens. Trust me, it takes a long, long time to chew a testicle before it pops. And as for chewing a penis, well, it's three times longer than it looks at home."
Sex factor: Not a sausage.

Funniest line: "Anyway, hats off to Matt Willis — he ate that kangaroo's anus and he won the show."

All their own work? Andrew Milligan is credited on the title-page. Unlikely either ever held a pen.
More to come? Brings them up to the present, but they're not done yet.
Happy bunnies? Insufferably. "Without a doubt, the best thing to come out of the last 20 years, the greatest thing we've ever achieved, our biggest success, has been our friendship." David Sexton

Look Back In Hunger:
The Autobiography
by Jo Brand
(Headline, £20)

Brand chats us through her not very exciting life — school in Tunbridge Wells, a move to Hastings, unsatisfactory long-term boyfriend called Dave, Brunel University, becoming a staff nurse at the mental health emergency clinic at the Maudsley — but only as far as 1988, when her career as a stand-up began to take off.

Big disclosure: None. Repeated reports of failed assaults by pervy men. "It just goes to show that looks are not important to pervy men, I suppose."

Sex factor: Rather a lot about periods for some tastes. "Lots of people use euphemisms for periods, because it's embarrassing, like I've got the painters and decorators in' or Arsenal are playing at home'. I prefer I've got a vast amount of blood squirting out of my c***, Vicar."

Funniest line: See above?
All her own work? Alas, yes.
More to come? Sequel already announced for next year.
Happy bunny? No. DS

I Am Ozzy
by Ozzy Osbourne with Chris Ayres
(Sphere, £20)

This one offers excellent value for money. Although Ozzy starts off "Bollocks. I can't remember anything", it soon proves otherwise.

Though off his head for 40 years on "booze, coke, acid, Quaaludes, glue, cough mixture, heroin, Rohypnol, Klonopin, Vicodin, and too many other heavy-duty substances to list", he has come up with nearly 400 pages of foul-mouthed and surprisingly detailed reminiscence of outrageous behaviour. Chris Ayres deserves a medal as well as royalties.

Big disclosure: Pick your atrocity, really. Attempted murder of Sharon? Check. Massacring an entire chicken-shed while "fucked up on a shitload of booze and coke"? Check. Biting the heads off pigeons just to impress? Check. Taking a year out to read Proust? Not so much

Sex factor: Plenty of groupies. Appalling mention of a banana. Equally forthcoming about the current state of affairs at home, as a result of his antidepressants.

"I can get a boner but no fireworks. So I end up pumping away on top of Sharon like a road drill all night, with nothing happening." Thanks for sharing, Ozzy!

Funniest line: "Probably the banana I stuck up there earlier."
All his own work? Chris Ayres heroically transcribes.
More to come? Maybe not. "Knowing me, I'll go out in some stupid way."
Happy bunny? Amazingly, despite the antidepressants, yes. DS

My Shit Life So Far
by Frankie Boyle
(HarperCollins, £18.99)

Quite triumphantly, this is the most abusive, obscene, insulting memoir yet published. Frankie Boyle is a 37-year-old Glaswegian recovering alcoholic best known for appearing on panel games like Mock the Week.

This astounding tirade does vaguely relate his life story but it's mainly just ranting.

Big disclosure: But nobody knew anything about him before.

Sex factor: Porny. "My porn-habit is a bit like having malaria. It's not a huge problem but every few months I lose a couple of days to it." Quite stern about Jacqui Smith's porn-watching husband, though. "When he made that public apology he looked incredibly embarrassed. So he should be. You can get all the porn you want online for free."

Funniest line: Many, many funny lines here. A difficult book to read sedately in public. Some particularly spirited remarks about better known celebrities. "Russell Brand is actually one of my favourite celebrities. The manner of his death will give Michael Hutchence back his dignity." Etc. Quite good about Gordon Brown. "Where did Brown learn to smile? Watching The Shining?"

All his own work? Evidently. Including the abuse of his patrons. "What kind of person buys the autobiography of a panel-show contestant? Wake up, you "
More to come? Maybe, maybe not. Says he's going to get out of showbusiness and take up "prescription med addiction, dread and loneliness".
Happy bunny? Hopping. DS