21

Jan,

09

dinner.

Guess what,” my publisher said to me on the phone yesterday.

I don’t like it when people say those words. They’re up there with “We need to talk” and “I don’t want you to be worried but” as far as I’m concerned. As soon as somebody says that they don’t want me to be worried, I am already quite worried. Continue reading

20

Jan,

09

Who Shot J.M.?

It sometimes seems as if my life is one surreal experience followed by another. If my life was turned into a film (if there are any agents out there, feel free to give me a call), it would be a silly Hollywood comedy full of montage sequences set to cheesy music: me opening a packet of my new book and doing a Cheshire cat grin; me driving along the motorway with a half-defrosted turkey in a bucket; me taking part in a photo shoot. Continue reading