The guilty one

This was the line-up in the Waterstones Islington shop window. That's me on the right. The guilty one. I was caught red-handed inside the shop taking the photo below - a picture of my book, A Vengeful Longing, on display, complete with a bookseller's recommendation. "Excuse me, we don't allow photographs of the displays!" came the cry from the sales assistant. "But it's my book!" I pleaded. She softened. Smiled. "Oh that's different," she said.

I pointed to myself in the line-up poster as proof. "See, that's me."

"We'll do our best for you," she promised.

Here's the offending shot, which I was not made to delete:

Staring me in the face.

On my way to the day job, walking from Tottenham Court Road station to Soho Square, I have to pass the Waterstones on Oxford St.

I used to find going into bookshops - well, the big chains at least - a very depressing experience. And even just looking into them was fraught with envy and other bitter feelings. But now I find I'm one of the bastards I used to hate. One of the bastards with a book not only published, but also displayed in a prominent position.

As I pass the big wide open entrance I can glance in and see the wall of racks, with the new titles, the bestsellers, the staff favourites, etc. There under the 'new fiction' heading, with a second placard announcing 'new talent', are two piles of A Gentle Axe, cover out. They're giving £3 off, I see.

I dunno. Somehow it doesn't seem real. Maybe it isn't. I'm feeling more and more like I'm wired up to the matrix.

Another early review.

This one appeared originally in the Birmingham Post and Mail, though I found it reproduced here. I wasn't googling, honest. Well, okay, I was.

It's by Mike Ripley. Very brief, just a couple of paras in a round-up (I'm the second book mentioned).

The matrix doing its work again?