A second bite of the cherry
One of the big advantages of having not one, not two, but three book launches is that by the end, I might be able to make a half-decent speech.
Might even have a go without the safety-blanket of my notes.
At the moment though, I almost feel like a US politician on the stump who has to give the same speech over and over again to about 200 audiences.
Well, not that I’m going to be giving that many talks - but I can feel already that a number of the gags are getting almost well-worn.
Tom, the bittersweet publisher, is developing this rather lumpen look on his face as I crank out the bittersweet gag for the eighth time. (It gets better with every telling, by the way, as I always like to ramp it up just one notch more.)
There is also the advantage that at tonight’s London launch Archie - regrettably - won’t be there, so I won’t have to put up with his incessant heckling. (Though that said, there are likely to be at least ten Sun hacks at Foyles this evening, and they are not known for keeping their traps shut.)
But one thing I hadn’t banked on was that although my speech-making is getting better, bittersweet Tom has also been honing his rather lack-lustre oratory. I mean, first time I heard him, he sounded like a seven-year-old doing some rote-reading in his English class. Now, I guess, he sounds like a piping 13-year-old.
But what he has started doing is getting in quite a few digs at me. It’s like receiving a couple of hefty hoofs from the warm-up man.
Well, sonny, you know where that’s going to lead don’t you?
You will be reaping the whirlwind! I was sharpening my talons all last night.