Timbles Maguire is concerned about the lack of links in this blog. Wants me to "sex it up" a little, much as they did with the WMD dossier, so herewith a most tasteful link:
It’s the pix of the Edinburgh launch - taken by my good friend Angus McLean, the only man amongst all my ligger chums to have the foresight to bring along a camera. Thank you Angus! My grateful readership will doubtless be saluting you in 50 years time.
News has reached me that a story about the book is going to appear in a most prestigious paper. True, it doesn’t have much of a circulation and it is free, but - or so I’m told - it’s read by some top people. Editors. Sub-editors. Reptilean reporters. Printers.
Neal Harrington has just interviewed me for The News, News International’s in-house paper, where they are all just agog, AGOG, at the thought that a Sun reporter can evolve into a writer of serious romantic fiction.
"We’ve never heard anything like it," said Neal. "A Sun reporter who can write!" (that quote may have been slightly mangled, but I’m sure I’ve got the thrust of it right.
"Yep," I said. "Who would have believed it?"
"So got anything else in the pipe-line," he said.
"Well as a matter of fact … I do!" I said. "In an ideal world, and if we can turn the Clavier into a go, then I’d like to continue writing stories about Kim’s merry old sex life. Most people have a number of love affairs before they settle down and get married and -"
"You’re going to start writing about all his ex-lovers," said Neal. "Brilliant!"
"It is!" I said. "All I do is bandit the more extraordinary moments from my friends’ love lives, and set them in some of the more exotic milieu in which I have immersed myself -"
"Like The Sun newspaper!"
"You catch on quick Neal!"