So here it is. Twenty one sleeps until The Ship is published. Twenty one sleeps until I am a published author. And here are some good things that have happened: The inaugural Curtis Brown Book Group selected The Ship as its first book choice, and tomorrow I get to answer
I’ve been trying to write this post for weeks. But Christmas is quite a big thing round here. Four children who still believe in Father Christmas and the Advent Fairy (lovely fairy, brings a small present every day and leaves a note saying where to find it. Except she doesn’t
Three months doesn’t sound like very long. It doesn’t sound like very long at all. By the end of next week, I should have decided on and booked a venue for the launch party. On Twitter, where everything is shiny, I shall post much (genuine) excitement about this. But here,
Having started this monthly countdown to publication by acknowledging that I needed to get some domestic help, I’d intended to use this post to write about the help I finally sought; what worked, what hasn’t worked, and about how, when you delegate something, there’s a strange patch of time when
If you’ve ever made butter, you’ll recognize the feeling of churning the cream for hours and hours, seemingly getting nowhere, and then realizing all of a sudden that the grains of butterfat are beginning to form and find each other. It’s been a year since my book deal; now, all
So first, a reality check. I am writing this in the café of a huge skating/climbing wall/caving/high ropes complex on an out-of-town industrial estate. Thirty four overexcited Cub Scouts are running around – one of them is mine, overtired at the end of term, running on fumes. The music is
I had lunch with my editor on Thursday. I love having lunch with my editor. I mean, she wouldn’t buy me lunch if she wasn’t going to publish my novel, right? So that makes it real, in a way that school runs and lost homework and washing up and power
I fell in love with James the moment I set eyes on him, just as I fell in love with writing as soon as I learned to use a pencil. It was a connection that felt absolute and right, like opposite poles of a magnet, and when James proposed two
Throughout March, The Ship has been with rights, looking for a second home abroad, and while I would be delighted to announce further deals, I can’t, as they haven’t happened. But I’ve managed to keep myself out of trouble for most of March by reading the Bailey’s Prize longlist. I’ve
So Robert McCrum is having to have a garrett purpose-built because he can’t afford to rent a separate office any more. Hanif Kureshi, Professor of Creative Writing, has declared creative writing courses to be a waste of time and America’s John Kerry has told Putin that he can’t just march