26 January 2012
When I saw the email informing me that my publishers were going into administration, the first thought through my mind was: ‘At least it’s happened now, when I’ve got the freedom to turn all my energies to dealing with it.’ But it was very bad news. Read more »
23 January 2012
After years of saying ‘Sorry, I can’t spend time with you because I’m writing a book’ my sabbatical brought the long-awaited delight of visiting the people I’ve been missing. First, my big sister, Ruth, and her family, who are in a seriously happy place in East Yorkshire. Life there is dominated by Polly (eldest niece, five, red head, ancestors were rapacious Viking warlords) and Martha (youngest niece, two, a tub-sized engine of chaos). Read more »
15 December 2011
My editor, Sid, took me down to St Paul’s Cathedral, where since mid-October there has been a camp of people protesting against capitalism, among other things. It was a grey and overcast day, with occasional drizzle. The camp is a reduced version of what one finds at performing arts festivals – around 10 white, framed gazebos, scattered amongst a hundred two- to four-man dome tents. A bloke with a cart was making a good fist of keeping the place clean. No one seemed to be doing any harm. Read more »
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(more oomph than your usual travel book)
4 December 2011
Forty-eight hours after the book launch, I found myself at a fetish party. It was pandemonium: populated by glamorous ladies wearing tight black latex; a couple dressed as vampires (inc. fangs); and a fellow with impressive upper body development, who’d spent 13 years as a stripper, and who explained to me in excruciating detail how cock rings work (!). Read more »
