Agatha Christie's things.

I was reading through last Saturday's Guardian today (only a week late) when I came upon an interesting article by Kathryn Hughes: Hunger for the Corporeal.

She makes some good points about

"the desire to possess material fragments of people and places that have been important to us."

As she says:

"an object no longer simply embodies its material value; what counts is the narrative in which it becomes embedded."

It put me in mind of this book.

Kathryn Hughes has written a book about Mrs Beeton.

Today, I failed.

The last couple of days I've been getting up at 5.30 a.m. - well, actually a little earlier - to try to progress my current W.I.P.. This morning, I didn't manage it. Just too bloody knackered. Hardly surprising really, as I have also not been getting to bed until past midnight most nights. Not so much working on the new one, as frittering away time blogging and myspacing and talking to myself.

I must be getting old. I wrote this book by getting up ridiculously early, in an intense burst of energy one summer not so long ago. But I just don't seem to be able to do it any more.

I just wish there were more hours in the day.

Lessons in the realities of book publishing.

Lesson Number 1.

There was quite a commotion at Day Job Headquarters yesterday evening.

"Does everybody know David Beckham is at Waterstones?"

"What's he doing there?" was the quite reasonable question.

"Signing books," came the slightly surprising response. I mean, David Beckham signing books? Who would have thought it.

"Shall we go?"

"It'd be rude not to."

So off they went, a positive exodus of otherwise quite sensible people, who had upto now betrayed no interest in the life, work, or literary career of David Beckham. But Christ, here was a genuine celebrity, an a-list star, a hero, almost, in a bookshop nearby.

And there you have the whole celebrity publishing phenomenon explained.

Lesson Number 2.



However, the most eagerly awaited book in the Morris-Yarham household was not David Beckham's autobiography, or whatever it is he's peddling, but the latest Captain Underpants epic novel from the pen of Dav Pilkey - Captain Underpants and the Preposterous Plight of the Purple Potty People.

Anyone who's met my son Luke will know that he is the world's biggest Captain Underpants fan. They will know this because Luke will tell them.

Anyhow, the new book arrived yesterday, at long last, all the way from America. It's not out in the UK yet. Yes, we're mad, but you've never experienced pester power like this, and at least it wasn't for a Play Station or a kiddy quad bike. It was for a book. Books are good. Books we like. Books we encourage.

Is it really possible that the big, gap-toothed-grinning joy, the I'm-so-excited-I'm-shaking excitement, the laugh-out-loud pleasure, the Dad-Dad-look-at-this wonder could have been caused by the arrival of a mere book?

We now have the happiest six-year-old boy on the planet living in our house.

So what is lesson two? Just that I think people who predict the end of reading are wrong.

If you would like to experience a similar excitement at the arrival of a new book, click here now.

Google guilt.

So many people are coming here looking for information on wooden cooking utensils that I am beginning to feel a little guilty.

Second most popular extraneous reason for visiting Roger's Plog is to find out about the uber-agent Jonny Geller. I really can't tell you anything useful about JG as I have had no dealings with him whatsoever. Never even met the man. Not even on the day when I thought I would.

However, perhaps the most bizarre google enquiry that has led someone to Roger's Plog is "How do I shave my neck with a beard?"

Hmm. I don't really know how to answer that, other than to confess that I'm slightly confused by the wording of the question. I would imagine it's pretty much impossible to shave anything with a beard. Hope that helps.

One day, maybe, someone will come here because they're interested in my book, Taking Comfort.

Broken glasses.

Last night I sat on my glasses and thoroughly broke them. Some fool had left them on the sofa. I mean! How stupid is that?

I thought at first that I had sat on one of the kid's cheap - but dearly treasured - pieces of crap (or toys, as they call them) but no. The quick pop of snapping plastic was the left lens of my supposedly indestructable spectacles. The frames are fine, as they are made out of that flexible metal that returns to its shape no matter what you do to it. I guess I'll get them repaired.

Although I was annoyed with myself, I think actually it was probably better, for the emotional equilibrium of the house, that I broke my glasses, rather than one of Claire or Luke's toys.

So what does all this have to do with Taking Comfort, the subject of this plog? Well, I had taken my glasses off and put them down somewhere (yes, I was that fool) in order to read from the book in question. I wasn't reading it through, just looking for a passage to read at a certain forthcoming event, more details of which will be coming soon...

That book meme thing again.

Remember that book meme thing? Well, I was amazed to discover that Taking Comfort actually got a mention in someone's list. Thank you Debra . Fortunately, it wasn't as 'one book that should never have been written'.

The sun always shines in Crouch End.

On Saturday, I took the kids to Queen’s Wood.

There was an open air art exhibition on there. We followed coloured ribbons, or arrows with tiny mirrors inside them, to find installations in amongst the trees. This is something that happens every year, I think. But this year I had the sense that there were more objects in the exhibition, and more interesting ones too.



It’s great to watch kids (one 6, the other 8) respond to what could be described as ‘modern’ or ‘conceptual’ art. They love it. They approach it without preconceptions and respond to it with a simplicity and joy that I’m sure would delight the artists.




I should say that Queen’s Wood is one of the settings of my novel. It’s where Rob Saunders goes jogging and ‘makes a frightening discovery’ as the blurb has it. So I was thinking that one of the artworks might have been a body, or a model of one, hidden in the undergrowth. Obviously, that would have been a bit too gruesome for an event that is intended for families, but that's just my imagination.

Thank you, crimeficreader, Part II.

For this review.

It contains the words all writers (or at least all sane ones) long to hear "this is a damn good read".

I hadn't really thought I'd written a crime novel, but apparently the boundaries of the genre are being pushed, so my book would make it in. Admittedly, there is a crime - more than one, actually - and a body, so I do use thrillerish elements in the story. I make no apologies for that!

It was good to discover that the book worked as a thriller for someone who reads a lot in that genre - and that the other things I was trying to do with it were appreciated too.

I'm well chuffed.

Buy this book.

The Sunday Night Book Club is a collection of short stories by some top writers, including one Kate Long. Kate is a fellow member of the writewords writers' website. I'm always pleased to be able to promote another ww-ers work, but especially when it's in a good cause. Proceeds will go towards Breast Cancer Care.

Besides, it makes a change to plog something other than this.

Congratulations Lucy.

Today sees the launch of the latest novel from Macmillan New Writing - Blood and Water by Lucy McCarraher. I shall be going to the launch tonight at Goldsboro Books. Looking forward to catching up with Lucy and everyone from MNW.

Here's the synopsis for Blood and Water:

BLOOD AND WATER
 
At 45, Mo Mozart has struggled to bring up her first two children as a single mother and, now they’ve flown the nest, she’s concentrating on maintaining a career while being a good wife to her second, younger husband, Jack, and mother to their little daughter, Lily. With the help of yoga, meditation and her close group of girlfriends, Mo feels she’s at last getting the balance of her life right. Until, that is, Jack’s highly strung twin sister asks her to help trace their birth mother, Caitlin, whom Jack wants nothing to do with. Her involvement in the search triggers turmoil in Mo’s life, exacerbated by the onset of menopausal symptoms, Jack’s involvement with someone else, and an old vagrant woman who unleashes unwelcome, supernatural encounters . . .

Thank you, crimeficreader.

For taking time to blog about my friend Ed and his music. Ed composed the choral piece Why Weepest Thou In Wild Array that I used in my trailer.

I also discover from visiting 'It's a crime...' that cfr is reading Taking Comfort and set to review. Yikes!

Anybody speak Spanish?

I followed a url from the sitemeter and found this. Someone from Mexico looked in, briefly. They were looking for 'Roger Comfort'. Maybe some relative of Alex Comfort? I was once told I had a comedy name. I suppose it might be true, as I am imagining another sex manual written by this relative of Alex Comfort, whose middle name might be Norman, or something. So you could have 'Enjoy Sex In Bed' by Roger N. Comfort.

Sorry, don't know what came over me.

Back to the day job.

Tomorrow I return to work, well, the day job, after taking the whole of August (and a few odd days of September) off.

What did I do?

I grew a beard. And shaved it off.

I went to St Petersburg and communed with the spirit of Dostoevsky.

I went to Norfolk and ate fish and chips and did other English seasidey stuff with the (extended) family.

I went to Edinburgh to sample the fringe.

I wasted a lot of time on the internet. I have a myspace addiction now.

Oh, and I did some writing. Not enough. But some.

So the endless summer has finally, and all too quickly, ended. This last day I spent with the kids. (They're back at school on Wednesday, or rather Claire is. The infants' school rang this morning and coolly announced the building work isn't finished so can we keep Luke at home for another day!) We baked cookies in the morning, went for a stroll around Crouch End, then Claire and Luke did some more baking in the afternoon, me banished from the kitchen because they wanted to make a treat for Rachel and me.

I got to clean up after them.

But it was a great day. They hardly watched TV at all and I don't think they fell out once. I even managed to do some reading. (Nearing the end of To The Hermitage.)

And now it's back to work, and Highgate Tube Station in the morning. I can't help thinking I should have kept the beard.

Google video search.

Check it out.

Waterstone's dot com.

Waterstone's have got their own independent website up and running. I beta-tested it for them and it seems to be working okay.

Hello Edinburgh. Goodbye beard.

I paid a flying visit, by train, to the Edinburgh Festival, to see my god daughter Alex in The Positive Hour by April de Angelis. The play was brilliant. Alex was brilliant. Edinburgh was brilliant. Sorry to sound like the 'brilliant' character in the Fast Show, but it was.

Anyhow, it was well worth the 9 hours there and back on the train. Thank God I reserved my seats.

I had a brief trip to the book festival with Alex's mum. Our main objective was to have a coffee, which we achieved. 'You'll be here next year, signing books.' That'd be nice wouldn't it. Though by the sounds of it, I could have stood in for some of the authors who couldn't be bothered to show. (I noticed Jake Arnott's name scratched from one board.)

I was bearded in Edinburgh. Been growing one for a few weeks now. Yesterday I shaved my neck, to try and tidy it up. The kids hated it though. And Claire's friend Caitlin thought it made my very tiny head look even tinier. Rachel seemed slightly freaked out by it. 'You look like somebody else,' she said.

So this morning it came off. I must say, I feel a lot better without it. It was another distraction too. All that chin stroking and searching for titbits when I should have been writing.

Sorry, no plug today. Maybe shaving the beard off sapped my plugging powers.

Suroopa in the Hindu.

Check it out.

Great article in India's national newspaper.

More embedding.

Now I know how to do it, there's no stopping me.

This is just a re-edit of the old video of me talking about the book, mixed in with some of the footage from the trailer. I also let Ed's wonderful music track play out.


Get this video and more at MySpace.com

That book meme thing.

Crimeficreader got me.

1. One book that changed your life?
That would have to be Crime and Punishment by Dostoevsky.

2. One book you have read more than once?
That would have to be Crime and Punishment by Dostoevsky.

3. One book you would want on a desert island?
I was going to say Life of Pi but that might start to freak me out, particularly the island bit, so I’ll go for Proust’s A la recherche du temps perdu, in French with a dictionary. That should keep me busy.


4. One book that made you cry?
Going back to Life of Pi, I had to get it in somewhere. I don’t know if I actually shed wet man tears, but I did find it incredibly moving, which took me by surprise. I always crumple in soppy films, by the way.

5. One book that made you laugh?
Recently, King of the Road by Charlie Williams.

6. One book you wish had been written?
A golden age whodunit detective novel featuring Porfiry Petrovich from Crime and Punishment. Ah, maybe I’ll have to write it myself. Maybe I will. (Maybe I already have!)

7. One book you wish had never been written?
Don’t like this question but if you push me, Amsterdam by Ian McEwan. Put me off Ian McEwan, to whom I was quite favorably disposed. I thought it was shallow and cynical and, frankly, rubbish.

8. One book you are currently reading?
To the Hermitage by Malcolm Bradbury. St Petersburg in the time of Catherine the Great, the French philosopher Diderot pays her a visit, intercut with a modern day academic junket to St P for what I take to be usual Bradbury shenanigans. Interestingly, the book has a blurb quote from Brian Martin, my fellow MNW author, from his book review days. It is also described by Auberon Waugh as the funniest book ever written. Not so sure about that as I haven’t laughed once yet, so Charlie Williams wins there. It is very clever though.

9. One book you have been meaning to read?
Too many to mention, but American Psycho by Brett Easton Ellis seems overdue.

10. Now tag five people...
I’m going to pass on this bit, because I think this meme is near the end of its life and almost everyone I know has already done it! Sorry. What I'll do instead is add one book I think everyone should buy. I think you probably already know the answer to that.

The trailer, embedded.

Get this video and more at MySpace.com

Stephen King is no longer my friend.

Was it something I said? I really have no idea. But the fact is Stephen King has mysteriously dropped off my list of friends on myspace.

You don't think he read the cheeky little post I wrote about him here and took offence, do you? No, surely not. Surely Stephen King has better things to do than read obscure blogs by rampant self-promoting authors?

It makes you wonder though, doesn't it.

Welcome to Leningrad.

I'm back from St Petersburg where I had a great and highly productive, though foot-wearying time. I did a lot of walking.

I was warned about muggers and crime in general. But actually the city did the opposite of mug me. It was extremely generous to me and gave me far more than I could have hoped for.

For example, on the very first day, as I stepped out into rain from the international terminal, looking for the No. 13 bus to take me to Moskovskaya metro station, I was accosted by a Russian guy, loaded up with his own luggage. When he discovered I couldn't speak Russian he switched to perfect English, to tell me that I was waiting at the wrong no 13 stop. So he took me to the right No 13 stop, got me on the bus and negotiated with the conductress on my behalf. The fare was something like 25 roubles and the smallest note I had was 500. This didn't seem to worry her, though she was a bit taken aback by how wet the note was. I had been holding it in my hand in the rain for a few seconds and it had got drenched.

Andrey, my new Russian friend, escorted me on to the right metro train, even donated a metro token to me, and made sure I got off at the right stop. The hotel information from expedia.com was completely misleading, and if I'd followed that, rather than Andrey, I would have got very lost, bewildered and fraught. (Reminds me, I must write to them correcting their info.)

Andrey and I met up a couple of days later and he took me on a walking tour of the northern part of the city, taking in the Peter and Paul fortress and Kammeniy Island.

Andrey had lived in the States for 12 years and in London for one. He'd come back to look after his 85 year old mother, leaving his wife and a good job in London. The future seems uncertain for him, but he was in no doubt that the right thing for him to do was to be close to his Mum now that she needs him.

Other highlights, in brief:


The young BA stewardess announcing our arrival at St Petersburg with: "Welcome to Leningrad." "She said Leningrad!" cried the Russian woman on the aisle seat of my row, her face equally amazed and amused.

Seeing Chris Eubank - yes, I'm sure it was him - strolling down the Nevsky Prospect in his best togs, grinning at everyone in a 'so-do-you-recognise-me?' kind of way.

Taking 247 photos. I'll post a few here if I get a chance.

Going to the Dostoevsky museum, paying homage to the great man. I had a quiet moment with his ghost. We talked a few things over, writer to writer. There were things I needed to say to him. I think he's cool.

Hearing the a capello quartet singing in the Yusupov Palace. Afterwards, when all the other tourists had cleared the hall, I bought a CD, as a present for Rachel. The guy gave me a little private show, to demonstrate the acoustics of the room. In the process, demonstrating his incredible vocal range, which went from high falsetto to basso profundo.

Meeting a very convivial and Russophile American gentleman called Robert, who spoke perfect Russian and had many great stories of Russia during the Soviet era, which was when he first visited as a student. It was then he met and married his Russian wife, while they were both in their twenties.

Quite a different story to the loud American gentleman on the row behind me who announced loudly to the whole plane that he was coming to Russia to find a wife. He didn't want the kind of wife who goes out to work, he said. But one who would stay at home and look after the family (what family would that be?). That's why he was attracted to Russian girls, he said. Looking at him in the toilet queue, I just wasn't sure any Russian girls would be attracted to him.

The weather was great - apart from that spot of rain on the first day. I came back tanned and exhausted. As well as inspired.

Siobhan Curham.

On an entirely unrelated note, I've added a link to Siobhan Curham's website. Siobhan hosted a reading I did for the writers' group in Hillingdon and has written a number of books. Here's how she describes her work: "Are you sick of formulaic 'chick lit', with tired plots involving two dimmensional characters who live in Notting Hill, work in PR, have a token gay friend and spend their lives drowning in a sea of chardonnay whilst they wait for Mr Right to throw them a lifeline? As a writer of commercial women's fiction I try to offer something a little grittier - 'real' women (and men) dealing with real issues and above all taking control of their own lives."

Check out the very funny character blogs she's got going on her website.

Bye bye for now.

I'm off to St Petersburg (the Russian one) tomorrow morning for a week or so.

More about that when I get back.

Cheers for all the comments - keep em coming!

Try this.

Book trailer. Should work if you've got a windows media player loaded, I think. Or realplayer. Or something. I dunno. Don't ask me.

If you are a mac person, or on dial-up this may work better for you (PC users can use this link too).

Thanks to Ian Hocking and Clive Parsley, beta checkers supreme.

The music, if you're interested is composed by Ed Hughes and performed by the Bath Camerata.

(ADDED: I've now re-edited the video to take into account crimeficreader's very helpful suggestions - see comments, if you're interested.)

Trailered out.

I've had a few late nights working on the editing of my trailer. Once I get an idea I can't let it go. I think it's pretty much there and I'm really pleased with the result. In the end I decided not to use a Snoopy ring binder. So I was able to let go of that little obsession.

It's raw and minimalist, maybe a little like the book?

I will be revealing all soon. But I need to live with it for a while.

Oh, if anyone has any thoughts on how I can circulate a trailer to as many people as possible, I'd appreciate hearing them. There's the problem, you see. Once you've made the thing, what do you do with it?

In the meantime the relentless plugging must go on. And there's nothing you or I can do to stop it.

I made it....!

... on to my own amazon banner at the bottom of the plog. This is the ad strip that suggests products by analysing the content of the blog. It has thrown up some weird items, including CDs by some tuba player called Roger Buba. Okay, I can see why it suggested a Roger, but I don't remember mentioning the tuba in my blog ever, or a Buba for that matter. Oh, shit. Now I have mentioned the tuba, so I am probably going to get some more of that tuba shit there. You know, I just can't imagine sitting down and listening to a whole album of tuba music. Shit. I mentioned the tuba again. This is really going to mess things up. I must stop mentioning the fucking tuba. Sorry. I swore. God knows what that will do to the amazon ad.

Wanted: one Snoopy ringbinder.

This lunchtime I went shopping for a Snoopy ringbinder. I want one to use in the short film/video/trailer/promo type thing I am tentatively thinking about putting together for Taking Comfort. I did say tentatively, so don't go getting too excited.

My idea, or part of it at least, is to use footage of some of the inanimate objects that Rob Saunders picks up in the story. The first of these is a Snoopy ringbinder.

Well, could I find one? Could I buggery. That is to say, they didn't have any in WH Smiths or Rymans. I'll try Woolworths on Friday. But I'm not hopeful. It seems that the world of kids novelty stationery has unceremoniously dropped Snoopy and taken up Jacqueline Wilson instead. Or at least her characters.

Either that or I made them up. I suppose that's what novelists do.

Back to this film idea of mine. On the way in I bought myself a cup of Starbucks coffee. Not my usual choice I have to say, but it provides another of the props. (Bloody hell! The prices in that place. And the queue.) I think I will also use a handkerchief, unbranded, but stained with blood. And yes, it will be real blood.

It all feels a little bit weird. Especially as I am thinking of posing as Rob myself. In a flame-engulfed building - a local block of flats that I will probably... no, no, not going to do that. Please don't alert any authorities.

I have realised, however, that although the book is not autobiographical, I am an obsessive person. Now that I have had the idea to buy a Snoopy ringbinder, I will not rest until I get one. If anybody's got any ideas where I might find one, please let me know.

Some mate he turned out to be.

Stephen King, I mean. All he did was bombard me with bulletins about his latest book. Jeez, I hate people like that, don't you?

Ah, well. Must go. There's probably a message from Kurt.

Stephen King wants to be my friend.

Actually, Stephen King is my friend. Over on MySpace that is. So are Roy Kesey, Charlie Williams, Robin Slick. And a whole host of other good people including some bloke called Kurt Vonnegut. Jesus! I mean that's like saying, God is my friend, is it not? Oh, some people do say that, I suppose.

The internet is bringing down the barriers, is all I can say. Between the writer and the reader, the published and the unpublished, the great and the green.

Only today I had a little exchange with the novelist and publisher Susan Hill, over on the WriteWords website.

It's kind of freaky. But exciting. More of the same (freaky but exciting, that is) here. Well, I had to get a plug in somehow.

Everyone's talking about....

... movie trailers for books. But really it should be book trailers for books, shouldn't it? In other words, an extract from the book, which is what you have here. Or simply the blurb, which you can find here.

I have to confess, though, I am fascinated by the idea of trailer-style ad for Taking Comfort and have even cobbled together something using the basic microsoft movie software that came with my Dell computer. I can't show it to you because (a) it's very rough and (b) I use lots of copyright imagery that would cost me (or Macmillan!) a fortune - well, a couple of hundred quid - to buy. Oh, and I haven't got permission for the music track I laid over it either.

It was fun to do because it kept me from doing what I really needed to be doing, i.e. getting on with the current book. But even if the basic idea is a good one, which I am not wholly convinced about, to get it done properly will cost real money.

I can't help thinking though: just because you can do something doesn't mean you necessarily should do it.

We'll see.

It had to happen.

Someone came here looking for sex. Mind you, they didn't stay long. 0 seconds.

Crimeficreader was right, it seems.

'No sex' versus 'sex'?

Try this. It's mad, but fun. You position a cursor along a number of scales of things you may or may not look for in a book, for example 'no sex' versus 'sex' or 'easy' versus 'demanding', then press go and up pops a book recommendation.

Sorry Debi, more displacement activity. Just what you needed.

I've been manipulating it like crazy but haven't yet managed to get it to recommend Taking Comfort.

Performing Arts and Public Libraries.

Claire and Luke (my kids) were in a playlet yesterday, a modern take on the Little Red Riding Hood story. It was the end of term show for the Performing Arts class they go to at the local YMCA.

I have to say we did not have any high expectations; in fact we were in a bit of a bad mood about the whole thing. The play seemed to have too many words, which the kids only seemed to have a sketchy knowledge of. That was Saturday morning, with the show only hours away. Plus we somehow had to produce a wolf costume for Luke, who was playing the part of Sidney, a vegetarian wolf cub who came bottom of his sheep worrying classes. ("Sheep have enough on their minds without me adding to their troubles" was one of his lines.)

In the event, it somehow all came together and was great fun. I made a little pair of grey wolf's ears for Luke, cardboard covered in grey-painted cotton wool. The rest was up to the audience's imagination. The kids somehow seemed to know their lines - or enough of them at least. I can't say the play made a whole lot of sense, and it did require Luke to pipe up "The End" at the end to get the audience to applaud. An inspired little ad lib on his part, I thought.

As we were going in, we spotted a friend, Ian, who was walking along Tottenham Lane with his two little girls. They were on their way to a Teddy bear abseiling event at the clock tower of a local church. There was a certain amount of trepidation regarding Teddy's safety but I tried to reassure Ian that he would be all right.

Completely out of the blue, Ian said: "Roger, just let me say, one of the best books I have ever read and I mean that." He then added that he had bought a copy for his Mum, who apparently likes Ian McEwan, which makes him think she will like mine.

Thanks Ian - you, and the kids' play, made my day, which was a long one as we had one of Luke's friends over for a sleep over.

And so on to libraries...

Last night I discovered this resource. Amazing what there is on the internet. This appears to be a list of all the UK public libraries, or regions that have libraries, giving access to their on-line catalogues. So, inevitably, I picked a few at random and entered Taking Comfort.

I was disappointed to discover that my home region of Tameside don't have any copies.

Haringey have six copies, two of which are on loan.

One picked at random: York seems to have one copy, on loan, and to be in the process of acquiring another copy. Good for York! (To see the Taking Comfort entry, just click on OK on the page that shows - if you can be bothered, that is.)

I really wish I hadn't discovered this, because I can see it eating away hours of my time. Oh, and I really should get on and register for public lending rights! (Debi will probably give me a hard time for not having done it already!)

Uxbridge report.

Had a great evening in Uxbridge Library last night meeting with members of the Uxbridge Writers' group, and I think a few other people from other local writing groups who turned out.

Uxbridge library is huge, by the way: four storeys (and lots more stories, no doubt). There are lifts and everything, plus a spacious atrium with a glass roof. I was impressed. I'd like to say I filled the place, but hey, I'm not Neil Gaiman. I was very pleased with the turn-out, and it seems that some people even had to travel by tube to see me. I'm not sure I'd travel by tube to see me, so the fact that others did was, well, frankly, astonishing.

Of course, it's always daunting, not to say terrifying, to be confronted by rows of expectant faces. And yes there were rows, though I'm not saying exactly how many. This public performance aspect of having a book out is all very strange to me. It's weird hearing my own voice burble on, and realise that people are listening to me. I do have this urge to subvert my own efforts, which usually comes out in self-putdowns. It's an English trait, I think. And, to paraphrase Borges*, I can do a much better job of undermining myself than anyone else could.

Thankfully, Siobhan Curham was on hand to say wonderful things about the book. And Clare Harris, the Hillingdon Libraries Literature Officer, was also very generous in her comments. Immeasurable thanks to both of you.

I chose to read this bit.

I've never read it before to an audience and I have to admit I was very uncomfortable about reading out Rob's sexual preoccupations but I felt I had to do it, somehow. If there was an audience I could read material like this to, it had to be one made up of other writers, I felt.

Exhausted, drained, buzzing, elated, hungry afterwards. And today, knackered. Bit of a headache too.

No more readings on the horizon. The book enters its tailspin phase. Who knows if I'll be able to pull out of it...


*Thanks to Jeff Haas for bringing this wonderful Borges' quote to my attention: "Any time something is written against me, I not only share the sentiment but feel I could do the job far better myself. Perhaps I should advise would-be enemies to send me their grievances beforehand, with full assurance that they will receive my every aid and support. I have even secretly longed to write, under a pen name, a merciless tirade against myself."

Next stop Uxbridge.

Tomorrow night I'll be doing another reading, this time for a writers' group who meet at Uxbridge library. The group is led by Siobhan Curham.

First time I've spoken to a group exclusively made up of writers, though I know there were some writers present at both the Hornsey Library and Northampton gigs.

I'm very grateful to Siobhan for inviting me along. She says the group have some good writers, some of who are working on their first novels. So I imagine they will be keen to know more about Macmillan New Writing.

They may also be interested in this website. It's another way for new writers possibly to get their work in front of editors. Work is peer-reviewed - the top submissions each month are then read by an editor at Picador and a top agent.

Hmmm. Doubtless it will have its critics, and maybe it isn't a perfect system, but given that people tell me it is harder and harder to get agents to even look at work, this may be an interesting route. One to watch, anyhow.

Another customer.


We went on a sort of sponsored-ish walk at the weekend, though we didn't really walk very far and we failed to get any sponsors. I know, I know, we're rubbish, especially as it's in aid of the Luke's school's playground appeal. I think the simplest thing will be if we just make a donation.

On the way round, one of the mothers, who for some reason was going in the opposite direction to everyone else, called out to me, 'Oh, I've bought your book. I haven't read it yet, but I will do!'

So thanks to her, and thanks also to Julia who left a comment below to the effect that she was intending to buy a copy. Good grief, if this trend continues, I might make it into double figures!

Good luck to them.

There are a couple of people selling signed copies of Taking Comfort on ebay now. One of them has even scanned in the title page with my scrawl on it; 'TO MUM, WITH LOVE...' Only joking. It actually just has my signature and the date 6/4/06. It'll knock you back 30 quid.

I know from that date that it must have been one of the books I signed for Goldsboro Books. You can buy an equivalent item, signed and dated with the same pre-publication date, direct from Goldsboro for £12.99. Hmm. £30 or £12.99? It's a tough call I know. But personally I'd go for Goldsboro Books as David and Dan are such great guys. Oh, and I won't get a penny out of the ebay resale.

Win a Twirl mug

I had a cup of coffee out of a Twirl mug at the weekend. It was a wonderful experience. Remember, you have the chance to win just such an item - or should I say icon - in my on-going quiz. See The other Bob's books for details.

A friend of the Friends of Highgate Library.

Last night I met up with the Friends of Highgate Library and a very enjoyable evening it was.

It was, I have to say, a small, intimate gathering. But as John, one of the FOHLs, said: "Quality not quantity."

I quickly abandoned the written notes I had, which I'd only cobbled together to help me get my thoughts in order. We just sat around and chatted. Two of the Friends had read the book already (Richard and Enid). John was about 50-60 pages into it.

The discussion was lively and friendly, with lots of great questions. Enid, who's the treasurer, was very enthusiastic about the book. She was wholeheartedly recommending it to the Friends who hadn't read it. As she said to me beforehand: "I didn't think I was going to like it but I did." Richard, the Vice-Chairman, had also read it but I got the impression he was less enthusiastic. "It gripped me," he admitted. "I had to keep on reading." But he used the word "dark" quite a lot, in a way that suggested that was not a quality he appreciated in a book. And I think he might have been a bit disapproving of the behaviour of some of the characters.

I have to say I was slightly intimidated by John, who is a journalist and has interviewed all sorts of novelists, including Martin Amis and Margaret Forster. He said that the opening of the book frightened him. And by the look in his eyes I think he meant it. But he was very complimentary about it, saying that it had really pulled him in and that I had written an opening that many TV writers and dramatists would envy.

One of the other friends, Andy, another journalist, wanted to know about my professional background (I'm a copywriter) and how this had influenced the book. Crikey, you see. A handful of people in the room, and two of them turn out to be journalists! I can't remember Andy's exact question, but it was very perceptive. Basically, if, in some sense, the book is critical of consumerism and identifies a spiritual void created by the desire for and comfort taken from possessions, how do I square that with my day job as the devil's lackey? It was something along those lines.

I took a deep breath and said that I thought writing the book was somehow a kind of purging.

Enid and Richard both thought it would make an excellent film, which is something other people have said. John thought there was a play desperate to get out, which was interesting. I said that if someone wanted to make it into a film that would be fine by me, but I probably wouldn't want to be involved in the process. In other words, I would be interested in having someone else write the screenplay, because they would have more distance. At that point, one of the other FOHLs, a lady whose name I didn't catch, piped up, saying that she knew the perfect person to do it: Christopher Nolan.

I think I must have given her one of those "Right, yeah" looks, because she became rather insistent. "No, really. I know Christopher Nolan and I shall talk to him about your book."

Imagine that. The director of Memento reading my book. We shall have to see.

So there you go, two journalists, a personal friend of Christopher Nolan, an enthusiastic reader of the book, a gripped but slightly disapproving reader of the book, a Green Party councillor, and another gentleman called Bert. Such are the Friends of Highgate Library.

If I were a building, I'd like friends like these. Quality not quantity indeed.

Better than Frank Skinner?

I was at a day-job related shindig last night. A few clients were there. Some of them had read my book. They all said they enjoyed it. Of course, it would have been hard for them to say anything else to my face! But it was nice to hear anyhow.

One guy, David, confessed that he doesn't read a lot of books. In fact, he was most emphatic about that and claimed that the last book he read was ten years ago. 'I don't read books, but I read yours!' he told me gleefully. 'I read it all the way through. It kept me reading. It's better than Frank Skinner's. I started his and gave up on it. I read yours instead. I really enjoyed it.'

I didn't honestly know that Frank Skinner had a book out. Before you scoff, I find David's response really gratifying. To think that I've written a book that can be read - and enjoyed - by someone who isn't particularly into reading gives me a great deal of satisfaction and, strangely, hope.

I go through phases when I completely lose confidence in the book and think that I won't try to promote it any more. Just let it be, and let people be. It's not going to be to everyone's taste, I think. I don't really have any right to push it on people. I have to admit I was in one of those troughs over the last few weeks, I think because I had another reading approaching. (Tonight at Highgate Library.) I do find the idea of standing up in front of a roomful of strangers incredibly stressful. And when I read from the book I feel very exposed.

So David's comment has given me a little boost actually. Tonight I'll be thinking, if David liked it, then maybe someone else will. And though I may not be as funny as Frank Skinner, at least I've written a book that people can finish.

The Friends of Highgate Library.

I'll doing one of those talk/reading/mumbling-type things at Highgate Library on Thursday, at the invitation of The Friends of Highgate Library. Maybe it's just me, but I find the idea of a society called 'The Friends of Highgate Library' incredibly touching. I imagine the members calling Highgate Library up and saying, 'What are you doing this weekend? We're having a bit of a barbecue. It'd be great if you could come. Just bring a packet of sausages or whatever you want to eat.' And the other friends of Highgate Library, when invited to the same barbecue, would say, 'Is Highgate Library coming? Great! I haven't seen old Highgatey for ages. What's he been up to?' 'Well, come along and you can ask him yourself.'

Maybe they would even indulge in a bit of match making and invite another building along. Of course, being the only buildings there, they might feel a bit self-conscious.

Anyhow, I'm glad I've got all that out of my system before Thursday so I won't feel tempted to make any stupid jokes to an actual Friend of Highgate Library. And being in the library, I wouldn't want to hurt the library's feelings.

I'll be talking, mostly, about this book, which starts at Highgate Tube Station. Hmmm, I wonder if Highgate Tube Station knows Highgate Library. They might even be friends.

What an editor does.

In my last posting I used the phrase 'He's da man' when referring to Will Atkins, the new editor-in-chief at MNW. Will has kindly contacted me to tell me that the O.E.D. prefers 'He da man'. I have duly made the change.

And there were those who dared to suggest that MNW books would not be properly edited.

Interview with an editor.

Following on from my previous post, there's an interview with the new head honcho at MNW, Will Atkins, over on WriteWords.

He da man.

He talks about this book, amongst other things. Apparently, I'm becoming something of a cult. Be careful how you say that. (Apologies to Peter Cook, who once made a similar joke about Dudley Moore on Parkinson.)

News from Macmillan New Writing.

We always knew it was going to happen, and now it has. I learnt on Friday that Mike Barnard, aka Mr MNW, has brought forward the date of his retirement and has handed over the reins of Macmillan New Writing to Will Atkins. As an executive board director of Macmillan UK, Mike was effectively the founder of Macmillan New Writing. It was his vision, his business plan, his expertise, energy and enthusiasm that made it happen.

As a publisher, Mike has shown great imagination and courage, not to mention good taste. Hey, he published my book, didn't he?

Mike once told me he had one simple rule: he would only publish books he believed in.

I know he is proud of Macmillan New Writing, as he should be.

There was some other news in the email that Mike sent me: Macmillan have now secured North American distribution for the first six MNW titles. This means that from Spring '07 (in the US) and January '07 (Canada) Taking Comfort will be available for any American visitors to the plog to buy. You know who you are. And now you have no excuses.

I'm wearing shoes...

... over on Jennifer Prado's blog.

And I'm talking about the book, of course. What else?

See you next Tuesday.

Remember the very clever review of the book in the style of the book? Kathryn Koromilas, who wrote it, has got a story appearing in the sex-themed anthology See You Next Tuesday. That's right. Sex-themed. Sounds like a winner.

From the publisher's blurb:

The recipe for our new anthology is simple: Sex, 50 stories, 1,000 words each, written by 50 authors from all over the globe. A scandalous fusion of literary traditions, See You Next Tuesday is the exclusive and hyper-unusual mishmash of never-seen sex-texts, exploring the inevitable and always poignant cross-sections of human existence and sexuality.

Kathryn's own story is called A Silly Little Thing, which sounds intriguing.

There are a few other names I recognise in the roll call of authors. (Take a bow, Don Capone and Alicia Gifford.)

Check it out then buy my book.

A little game.

Go here and play.

Mumble mumble mumble.

Got some feedback from the joint reading gig I did with Cate Sweeney in Northampton. Some very positive comments though it seems there was a problem with volume. People at the back had trouble hearing us. I suspect I was the main culprit as Cate has a great delivery style. And she was clever enough to stand up.

One of the people who attended, and bought a book, was Tony Judge, who has been kind enough to post his thoughts on the book on the WriteWords website. He's given me permission to quote from his review on the plog. But why quote when I can post the whole thing:

I recently finished Taking Comfort and it is indeed a rewarding read. The plot unfolds with subtlety and some flashes of dark humour. One of the main themes is the psychological impact of different brands and the way that we take comfort from them as familiar signposts in a maelstrom of everyday choices. The author's observations on working life are deadly accurate and should bring a shiver of recognition to anyone who has ever been caught up in venal office politics. The main character, Rob, uses trophies to 'protect' him from random urban violence and an ill-defined but ever-present sense of threat, which pervades the book. The nature of the threat is unspoken, but the book is suffused with the fear of terrorism and other anonymous crimes.

The use of multiple viewpoints is well-handled - the female characters are equally as convincing as the males - and gives the reader a strong sense of the wider context of the main character's increasingly bizarre experiences. The prose style of Taking Comfort has an edgy, experimental feel to it, which complements Rob’s strange process of disintegration. Repetition is used to great effect, building complex insights from simple and direct language: a prose analogue of minimalism in music.

Oh, and there’s a terrific twist at the end. So what are you waiting for, go out and buy a copy!

Tony Judge.

Miming suicide in Class 3.

On Friday, my eight-year-old daughter Claire took a copy of my book into school to show to her classmates. Naturally I was interested to know how it went.

'So, Claire. You took my book in. Did you show it? How did it go?'

'OK.'

'So what did you do? You just showed everyone the book?'

'I read the blurb.'

'You read the blurb? Really?'

(Here's the blurb in question, if you're wondering: It's Rob's first day in his new job. On the way into work, he sees a student throw herself under a tube train. Acting on an impulse, he picks up a file she dropped as she jumped. Over the next few days, he's witness to other disturbing events, some more serious than others. From each one he takes a 'souvenir'. As his behaviour becomes increasingly obsessive, he crosses the line between witnessing disasters and seeking them out, and events begin to spiral out of control.)

'Uh, okay... And how did that go down?' I asked nervously.

'The boys loved it. They started doing this.' Claire executed a quick star jump and gave a silent scream.

'You mean they were pretending to...?'

'Throw themselves in front of the train. They thought it was really cool.'

'And what did your teacher say?'

'Thank you Claire, you can sit down now.'

Yes, I bet she did. Through clenched teeth, no doubt.

I only hope I haven't started a new playground craze.

Friday is showing day.

My daughter Claire has taken the book into school this morning for a 'show and tell'. She's been wanting to do it for a while now but we keep forgetting.

Of course, it's not really suitable for eight-year-olds. In fact, it's not at all suitable for eight-year-olds. I hope the teacher doesn't decide to read them a passage. Especially not something from the Sloggi Midi Briefs chapter.

But I am extremely touched by the fact that my daughter is so proud of something I have done that she wants to show it to her class.

Panic over.

I had a moment of extreme panic just now, after seeing the kids off for school. I came back in to put the coffee on and start a morning of writing. Imagine my horror when... I could find no coffee in the fridge.

I searched frantically through the shelves, pulling out the pots of yoghurt, scrag ends of cheese and fragments of Easter eggs (hope that's from this year, not last), oh and the packets of filled pasta. So much bloody filled pasta in our fridge. We buy it as an emergency food. But keep forgetting we already have some. So our store of filled pasta increases every week, as we never have the necessary emergency that requires us to actually eat it.

I knew there had to be some coffee in there. I'm the only one who drinks the stuff (Rachel claims she has an allergy to it, but I doubt this; I don't see how anyone could be allergic to coffee) and I knew I hadn't finished off the last pack. In fact, I had the feeling that there was a generous amount left in it. So where was it?

The more panicky I got, the more desperate my searching. It was only the thought that I might have to resort to instant that brought me back under control. That and some deep breathing.

I decided to conduct a systematic full fridge evacuation. The good stuff had to be in there somewhere.

It was at the back of shelf two. I can't describe the rush of relief and anticipated pleasure that I experienced. It's brewing now. In fact, I think I just heard the last gargle of the espresso pot. I may have to go now.

Six degrees of something or other.

I'm honoured indeed that the great, and widely read, Grumpy Old Bookman has added a link to this here humble plog. I couldn't help noticing that I share a position on the GOB's blogroll with Richard Charkin, the ceo of Macmillan. As cheeses go, they don't come much bigger.

I followed a link from one of Richard Charkin's recent postings to this article in India's Daily News and Events newspaper.

Where I find myself mentioned, and even quoted.

Amazing thing the internet, isn't it?

Unfortunately, they forgot to mention the title of my book. (Oh. it's Taking Comfort. Nearly made the same mistake myself. As if.)

The other Bob's books.

We all know that Bob's Books is the most important literary website on the planet. (You know, Bob's Books. The website that ran both a review of my book and an interview with me.)

Well, you may not be aware that there is another Bob's books. I'm talking about Robert Dagg Rare Books, of San Francisco. I have two reasons for mentioning Robert Dagg Rare Books. One is because Bob (i.e. Robert Dagg) and Di (his wife) are very good friends of ours. Di was recently in London and we went for a fabulous meal at the Parsee in Archway. She bought a copy of the book, which I had to sign in a specific way, following precise instructions from Bob. That's book dealers - and collectors - for you.

The other reason for mentioning Robert Dagg Rare Books, is that it's featured in my novel, Taking Comfort.

That's given me the idea for my first ever promotional competition. There'll be a special prize of a Cadbury's Twirl mug* (also featured in the book) for the first person to leave a comment with the number of the page Robert Dagg Rare Books is mentioned.

By the way, the Twirl mug pictured here is not the same as the Twirl mug in the book. Perhaps there's another competition there, a prize for anyone who can tell me the difference.



*If I can get one. If not, a promotional mug for one of Cadbury's other bars.

You couldn't make it up.

I was very kindly invited to contribute something to un-made-up, a website devoted to 'True stories from the keyboards of real people', edited by the journalist William Shaw.

Well, it just so happened that only yesterday I witnessed something, or rather two somethings, pretty much perfect for un-made-up. Weird how the universe does this sometimes, isn't it? You might almost believe in fate.

As I said to Will, I was thinking of writing it up for the plog, but unfortunately I couldn't see a way to work in a mention of the book. And if I can't work in a plug, it doesn't belong on the plog.

Sorry. Them's the rules.

There's no pleasing some people.

I see the Observer carried another piece by Robert McCrum fulminating about the parlous state of the British publishing industry. I have to admit I read it with apprehension, bracing myself for another attack on Macmillan New Writing. (Crikey, I thought, what if he has a go at my book?) But there was a different, though connected, target for his Olympian bolts this time: first time novelists who receive over-inflated advances.

Hang on. I'm a bit confused here. He didn't like Macmillan New Writing, which pays no advance, just royalties, to its authors. But he's against the so-called conventional route, which pays new authors an advance in proportion to the amount the publishers think they are going to make back out of the book.

You could be forgiven for thinking that Mr McCrum just doesn't like new authors.

So what is the ideal advance for a writer (first time or otherwise) according to Mr McCrum? He seems curiously attached to the figure of £250, provided it's accompanied by a long lunch at L'Etoile.

Whatever you say, Robert.

Hello Neil.

I went over to neilgaimanboard.com to let Neil know that my book had been paired with his book Stardust on my amazon page. For some strange reason, it doesn't seem to work the other way round. I.e., there's no mention of Taking Comfort on his page. Shurely shome mishtake?

I was also doing my bit to boost rashbre's review of Anansi Boys, now posted on Bob's Books, which if you remember is the most important literary website on the planet, and once ran an interview with me.

So, on the off chance that you saw my post, and followed the url here, 'Hello Neil Gaiman. Thanks for looking in.'

Kathryn Koromilas has been having fun.

Kathryn has written a review of the book in the manner of the book. It's very clever, very funny and, well, a little unnerving.

I like Kathryn's description of herself, by the way: "I'm a person who, mainly, writes. I also wonder about things, such as this absurd life. I like to read things that other thinking and wondering beings have felt important enough to write down."

Thank you, Kathryn.

Ah the joy...

... of starting a book and knowing immediately you are going to love it. Which is to say I just started High John the Conqueror by Jim Younger this morning. It's drawn me in immediately with its vision of a strangely skewed alternative London and, above all, its wonderful, vibrant language. It's a special kind of happiness to feel yourself embarking on a book like this. I'm sure it's going to be a big hit. Well, it will be if there's any justice in the world.

I know Jim from a couple of writing sites I go to, writewords and zoetrope, and I've actually met him in person, as he came along to the Macmillan New Writing launch at Goldsboro Books. He's a lovely bloke and, from what I've read so far, a great writer.

I wonder what Jim's reading at the moment? Perhaps it's this book?

My own theory.

Yes, I've got a theory concerning the amazon ad at the bottom of the plog. Yesterday it was presenting plog-readers with three items to shop for: series 1 and 2 of Shameless, and a CD called Roger Bobo - Tuba Libera. If you remember, the idea was that a very sophisticated software program at amazon analyzes the editorial content of the blog and suggests items that it concludes will be relevant to people who find themselves here. As far as I understand it, no human agency is involved.

I think there are two possible reasons for the Shameless recommendation. 1) The software has very cleverly worked out that I am a shameless self-promoter of my novel Taking Comfort. Or 2) it's all because I've been visited by, and have mentioned, the anonymous blogger Shameless. As for Roger Bobo, obviously the software thinks that because you're interested in roger's plog you will also be interested in Roger Bobo. And presumably anything by any bloke called Roger.

It should have known better. After all, the only Roger-related product you're interested in is surely this one.

Ads. Sorry.

I don't know if you've ever scrolled down to the bottom of the plog, but if you do so now, you'll find an amazon strip advertising three products. This is a bit of an experiment on my part, mainly undertaken just to see exactly what products appear in that strip. You see, the items are supposed to be selected to fit with the content of the blog. Some bit of software at amazon analyzes the editorial thrust of the plog, and throws up three items that it judges to be especially relevant.

So the last time I looked it was series 1 and 2 of Shameless. And a CD called Tuba Libera - Roger Bobo.

Okay. Explain that to me, someone.

I mean what does any of that have to do with this book?

I fell into a trap.

I'm reliably informed that Bob's Books is the most important literary website on the planet, (though which planet I'm not sure). Bob of Bob's Books had very kindly republished Rashbre's review of my book. In the comments below he had suggested "author-trapping" me by leading me to the review and asking me some questions which I wouldn't be able to resist answering, being a typically vain and egotistical author.

So that's what happened. They got me. In fact, it was a pleasure to answer their highly intelligent questions, and the result was THIS INTERVIEW.

It's a real privilege to be the first author interviewed on the most important literary website on the planet (if we all say it enough it will become true), though maybe the man trap suggested by Rashbre might have been fun too.

The whole prank is discussed in another blog called Hoses of the Holy. I like that name.

Word of mouse.

The internet is the new word of mouth - or word of mouse, as you might say. I don't know what effect all these wonderful blog reviews I've been getting will have on sales. That isn't really the point, though naturally I want the book to do as well as it possibly can. I'm just pleased to learn that my book has connected with this or that individual reader, and he or she has felt strongly enough to share their enthusiasm with the world.

Anyhow, there's been another blog review. Take a look.

My favourite bits? I did like this: "The way in which Roger Morris controls and manipulates his narrative and plot through the device of taking these ‘souvenirs’ is deft and supremely well constructed as we are drawn more and more into Rob’s sometimes crazed perception of reality."

And then there was this: "Full marks to Macmillian New Writing for publishing this novel. Roger Morris takes many risks in his prose with his crisp style and repetition."

Oh, and I mustn't forget this: "It is an excellent novel and one I would recommend."

Thank you, Alan Roche, for writing the review. I don't know Alan from Adam. So it's amazing to me that people other than my immediate family and friends are reading the book and being affected by it.

And thank you, Jai Clare, for putting the review up on your blog.

What it's all about.

Here's a review posted on the writers' website, Writewords.

The comment at the end, by another reader, absolutely blew me away. As a writer, I can't ask for more than this.

A tale of two platforms.

Last night I shared a speaking platform with Mike Barnard, the publisher of Macmillan New Writing, and Marcelo Beilin of Trafford Publishing, to address the Oxford Publishing Society (OPUS).

The subject of the discussion was ‘Self-Publishing in the Internet Age’. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what I was doing there as I know nothing about self-publishing. Michael from OPUS explained that the society had invited MNW along to hear how a traditional publisher was responding to the challenge of the self-publishing revolution. Maybe those weren’t his exact words, but there seemed to be the feeling that self-publishing was something that publishers ought to be aware of. Rightly or wrongly, MNW was perceived as a response to it.

Anyhow, it was an opportunity for Mike (Barnard) to explain the thinking behind MNW, which could be described as a new model for publishing, and has certainly been confused with self-publishing by certain perverse commentators and individuals. Mike himself sees it more as a return to the most traditional form of publishing, in which the publisher has a direct relationship with the author.

Whatever Macmillan New Writing is, it isn’t self-publishing. A self-publishing company like Trafford publishes every book submitted to them, at a cost of on average £1,000 to the author. Contrary to what you may have heard from certain mischievous sources, Macmillan New Writing do not charge authors a penny. Nor do they publish every book that comes along. In fact, less than half a percent of submissions actually make it through to publication (14 titles in one year, out of around 4,000 submissions). Manuscripts are assessed by editors and professional readers. The books are edited to the highest industry standards. Marcelo revealed that no one at Trafford reads the books that they publish (apart from the typesetters). No editorial service is offered at all. The writer is in effect the publisher, responsible for the editing as well as the marketing of his or her book.

For me it was an opportunity to talk about the only subject I’m at all knowledgeable about: myself. They wanted to hear a writer’s experience of being part of this brave new publishing venture.

It was a bit daunting standing up in a lecture theatre (the meeting was held at Oxford Brookes University) in front of a room of publishers. But they were a friendly crowd. They laughed in all the right places and made me feel very welcome and relaxed. And the acoustics were amazing.

That was platform number one. Platform number two was the southbound platform of the Northern Line from Highgate. It’s where my novel starts. Because of that, one of the marketing ideas I’d discussed with Macmillan was the possibility of distributing flyers to commuters going into Highgate tube station. This morning was the day of distribution.

I was travelling from Highgate myself today. (It doesn’t always happen nowadays – if I’m dropping the kids off, I go from Finsbury Park.)

I saw the young lady handing them out as I approached along Priory Gardens. It looked like people were taking them, although obviously a few walked by without biting. As I got close to her, she proffered one to me. I declined. ‘No, it’s okay. I’m the author.’ We had a brief chat about how it was going. She’d been there since 7.45 and was down to her last bundle. I expected to see them littered throughout the station, but it wasn’t too bad. I spotted two on the platform itself, but that was all.

The wording on the front of the flyer was: ‘He takes the tube from Highgate. And takes comfort wherever he can.’

We’ll have to see if it has any effect on sales.

A Shameless Review, no really...

I've been reviewed by another anonymous blogger. Shameless.

My favourite bit from the review? Well, I have to confess I liked this bit:

"This novel is very unique and original, and that's what makes it attractive. Inventive writing has been successfully merged with a page-turning plot, and so there is double pleasure. It is a fast, frenzied ride to the end and you find yourself not wanting to get off."

He also takes on one of the tosserati critics Macmillan New Writing, some broadsheet literary hack who had come out early to pour cold water on the whole enterprise.

"In one of the reviews I saw of this new collection, a newspaper critic complained that there wasn't enough "new writing" in the Macmillan New Writing line-up. I remembered this when I was a few pages into Morris' book and I wanted to say out loud, "if this isn't new, then the Pope isn't Catholic." You'll appreciate that I was in public, in Ireland, and so it just remained a thought."

And before you ask, I have no idea who Shameless is either.

Who invited Jeremy Paxman?

Really enjoyed myself in Hunsbury last night. (Joint reading gig with Cate Sweeney.) There was a really good turn out, despite the fact that the library was charging £2 a head. Kate O'Brien, the literature officer for Northampton libraries, explained that, bizarrely, they always get more people when they charge for events. I suppose people think if it's free it's not worth going to; if you have to pay, it must be something good. Plus the library have to cover their costs, and a small admission charge helps.

Anyhow, to make up for it they knocked a couple of pounds off the price of the books, so if you bought a book, you ended up quids in.

Cate being the local girl had plenty of support. She'd also managed to get herself interviewed on Radio Northampton so I'm sure that helped to boost the numbers too. I was delighted to meet some 'virtual friends' of mine from writers' websites writewords and zoetrope, Lexie and Tony. Thanks to them for making the effort to come along and give support. Other than that, there were a fair few people who neither of us knew. In other words, members of the general public.

We both said a bit about our books and then read two extracts each. I did go with the All Day Breakfast and The Tetley Teabag. After we'd done our readings there was a question and answer session. Lots of good questions. People seemed to be really engaged by what we had said and read. There was one guy who asked me a bit of a Jeremy Paxman question: 'I noticed in the bits you read, you tend to repeat certain words. Is this deliberate - a conscious technique - or are you just trying to fill the page?' I had to laugh. It did give me an opportunity to talk about the style. I do use repetition - it's been said to good effect. It's a way of mirroring the way thoughts loop round and repeat themselves in our heads. To be fair to him, the guy that asked the question did say 'It's very effective.' It was a funny moment - and I don't think he meant to be rude. Provocative, maybe.

There were lots of other questions too, very interesting and thoughtful ones. You obviously get a high class of reader in Northampton. The event ran on a little bit later than intended, which I think was a good sign.

I'm told we sold all the copies of the books they had. I can't quite believe it, but if it's true, it's great.

Whoo, I'm going to Northampton.

Tonight. To do the reading with Cate Sweeney. (7.30, Hunsbury Library, if you're anywhere near.)

I had the usual last minute crisis about what to read but I think I've decided now. I'm going for the Pret A Manger All Day Breakfast and the Tetley Teabag. I think. The Tetley Teabag seems to go down well, even though all that happens is that one of the characters makes a cup of tea. I've never read the All Day Breakfast before, so that's a bit of an experiment.

I'll let you know how I get on. Starting to get a bit nervous now. The general public. I hope they're nice in Northampton.

In praise of frozen peas.

On the advice of my osteopath Norman, I've been lying on the floor three times a day for ten minutes, holding a packet of frozen peas to my back. It's worked wonders. I can now get my socks on without shooting pains going all the way up my spine or help from Rachel or one of the kids.

However, this is not a personal blog. This is a plog, the sole purpose of which is to encourage you to buy a copy of my book. So what have the healing effects of frozen peas got to do with that?

Well, it's long been my view that the best writing is borne out of pain. However, in this case, I think the pain was borne out of the writing. Too much sitting in a cheap Ikea office chair at a badly configured work station. (I should have gone for the highly adjustable Unifor i Satelliti S200 which Rob Saunders is fortunate enough to have as his desk in the book.)

While we're on the subject of frozen peas, Joyce Maynard revealed in her memoir At Home In The World that J.D. Salinger used to have them for breakfast. How did I find that out? I googled frozen peas and J.D. Salinger, of course. Now if anyone does the same, they may find their way to this plog. Google trap number 3.

Now you can see me speak on Amazon!

There's a link on my amazon page. Look for the little sun icon just below the front cover image.

Unselfish Cate.

Cate Sweeney, author of Selfish Jean has very kindly invited me to join her on a reading gig she's organised in Northampton next week.

It's on Thursday evening, the 11th May (God is it May already?), 7.30pm at Hunsbury Library. If you know Northampton that will mean a lot more to you than it does to me.

Cate's book is very funny and she's an exceedingly entertaining reader. My book is this one.

Google trap 2.

The Di Beradino classic, The Snoopy ring binder, The Twirl mug, The Yves-rocher Yria Extreme Comfort Lipstick bronze, Pringle socks, The GN 2100 Microboom Mono Headset, The Unifor i Satelliti S200, The Prêt à Manger All Day Breakfast, The Benjys napkin, The Evian Natural Spring Water 0.75l Nomad bottle, The Jammy Dodger, The Nobo Brainstormer Flipchart Pad, The Ideal-Standard Space btw wc, The Hugo Woman fragrance, The Mulholland Brothers Messenger Bag, The pint of London Pride, The Sabatier Au Carbone 8 inch Carbon Steel Chef’s Knife, Sloggi Basic midi briefs, Blue Hawk Plaster Coving 127x2000mm, The Xpelair integral timer remote switch operated extract fan, The Philips AJ3120 radio alarm clock, The Nike Air Zoom Elite running shoes, The Flexi Classic 1 small dog 5m retractable dog lead, Whole Earth Organic Corn Flakes, The Tetley teabag, The IBM ThinkVision L170P flat panel monitor, The Montblanc Meisterstück Le Grand fountain pen, The Unifor Progetto 25 screen system and the TAG Heuer Kirium Ti5 Men’s Chronograph, The Securicor security box, The unbranded handkerchief, The 5 Star Document Wallet, The Tracy Island movie tie-in toy, The Jonelle Egyptian Bath Sheet, The Cobra Premium Beers, The Eurocopter EC135 Advanced Police Helicopter, The Martyn Gerrard window, The Marvelon® contraceptive pill, The Barbour Harris Tweed jacket, The Sony KV-20FV10 20” WEGA TV, The BODYARMOUR UK Police Concealable Body Armour vest, The Initial 2-Fold Hand Towel, The Bic biro, The Google™ search engine, The Yves-rocher Yria Lip Contour Pencil brun, The BT Synergy 3105 cordless digital phone, The Ikea Grundtal dish drainer, The Starbucks Coffee cardboard cup, The Pizza Hut pizza delivery trestle, The Nokia 6610i mobile phone, The Arofol Plus® self seal postal bag, The L.K. Bennett kitten heels, The Faithfull Steel Shaft Claw Hammer 16oz, The Nissan Bluebird 2.0GS, The Yale P1037 door chain, The i’coo Platon threewheeler

Nnya-ha-ha-ha!

Vote for Councillor Adje.

It was a week ago today that I did my reading in Hornsey Library. Haven't written it up yet - except to leave a brief comment below.

My excuse is I've been a bit busy with other stuff (there's stuff besides plogging? surely not?). Plus I've had a bad back which has limited the amount of time I can spend comfortably sitting in front of a computer. I've been just about able to check my amazon rating, maybe the sitemeter as well, before falling onto my knees and clutching my cheap Ikea office chair - not out of affection, or any Rob Saunders-like need for comfort, but just because it was the nearest thing available. Anyhow, a friend has given me the number of an osteopath, so I hope to sort that out soon. Thank you Clive.

The reading went well, I think. There were people there. Some familiar, friendly faces, but members of the general public too. The best indicator of how it went was the question and answer session afterwards, which went on for quite some time - and actually had to be cut short by Bill from the library, so that we could all make an impression on the wine.

(Incidentally, Bill told me that the library had taken eight copies (I think he said eight!) and that six had gone out straight away. I was pretty chuffed about that.)

A group of writers from the local word4word writers' group were very interested in the whole Macmillan New Writing initiative. I pointed them at Will, the editor from MNW who had turned up, and saw some frantic scribbling of email addresses.

A lady came all the way from Wood Green. She'd seen a poster in the library there. She bought a book and very kindly said she was going to recommend it to her reading group.

Someone else who turned up was the leader of Haringey Council, Councillor Charles Adje. A very nice man. A very very nice man. He didn't stay for the reading itself (we're in the middle of an election campaign after all) but he did stay long enough to buy a book and have me sign it. Given that no one from any of the other parties turned up, and given that he was also prepared to have a smile (I wouldn't say 'laugh') about what was going on in national politics, he's got my vote.

As Jeremy Hardy has said, voting Labour at the moment is a bit like wiping your arse. Not a particularly pleasant thing to do, but the alternative is far worse.

Anyhow, that's enough politics. Charles Adje for Prime Minister, I say.

Rashbre reviews.

The mysterious Rashbre shares his or her thoughts on reading Taking Comfort.

I have a feeling that I ought to know who Rashbre is. I thought perhaps I did know who Rashbre is but it turns out I was wrong.

Whoever you are, Rashbre, thank you!