Rev-ving up on the grid...

No, not that Grand Prax or whatever it's called, it's the countdown to the release of Eating Blackbirds!

It has come as a bit of a shock to the system to realise that it is just a few weeks away, as I tend to work at least six months behind where I should be at any particular point in time. I have booked myself a mini book signing at the Royal Welsh Show in the corner of the Welsh Books Council tent (aisle D, tues 12 p.m, be there or be square) so now have to just work out how to get there, what to do, how to do it etc.

One of my biggest dilemmas is actually getting to the Show. We live about 5 miles away, and last year at about half nine in the morning, there was a queue of stationary traffic sat on the main road, with people asking me things like, "is there a short cut?" "Yes," I said for a laugh, as I directed them on an extra loop, made them lose their place in the queue and caused them another two hours on top of what they had already done.

A lady at my publishers suggested I walk and although I think it was a joke, it might just be the best thing to do to make sure that I actually get there and back in the time that I have. I am therefore looking for a sandwich board type thing that I can advertise my signing on, and a pile of balloons to tie to my head to make me look a bit "stop me and buy one".

My only worry is that I meet the people who I sent off via a dead-end loop and they are prepared this time and so throw their flasks and bacon sandwiches at me...

So, in my quest for marketing my product, if anyone has any good ideas, please let me know! I am available for talks, writing articles, wearing balloons on my head and I may even give a copy to Prince Charles if he happens to walk by my stall, as that's the only thing I have thought of yet...

One of those "Oy, Jenkin - NO!" moments...

Evening folks and hope all is well?

I had a little incident the other day that made me squirm that I thought you might be interested in hearing about?
I was at the Hay Festival doing a little talk (well, more of a soliloquy considering the amount of people that were listening) and my editor from Honno had arrived to support me and try and look like an intrigued crowd.
I had recently done a great deal of changes to Eating Blakbirds in response to her comments and I was keen to know whether she had liked them or not. One of the problems that I had to look at was that one of my lesser characters was a little less-rounded than she needed to be. She needed more background and more of an explanation of her personality. I had spent a lot of time thinking about how I might make this happen: I wanted her to be a bit quirky, but likeable and someone that people could understand. I thought back to my old mate Tuckface and knew that that was the way forward...
So, I gave Lucy-Ann hamsters, gerbils, guinea-pigs and mice. She had chinchillas, rats and fur stuck to her skirt. It allowed her new boyfriend to step back on them, try and like them, not quite appreciate them and want them off his lap. Basically, all over this lady's house were these little critters in cages.
My "Oy, Jenkin" moment was when my editor said, "Was that some kind of joke? Did the others tell you or what?" I was confused, then the hideous reality hit when she said that she had been tempted to take a photograph of her front room and email it to me - showing me all of the hamster, gerbil and mouse cages on the shelves...

Proof-reading and broken toes

Hello!
Apologies for the delay in posting -we've been off for a week's sunshine in sunny Lyme Regis! My brother was away, so we were allowed to fill his house with sand and melted ice cream on condition we looked after the chickens and didn't lose the rabbit in the woods behind.
We've had a great time -as soon as the girls realised that the chickens did dances of excitement when slugs were dropped into their pen, that was the week's entertainment sorted and my brother's lettuces have never looked so good.
But, back down to earth with (literally) a bump when we came back and my penance for not immediately sorting all the suitcases and piles of sandy clothes out - choosing instead to have a day in the paddling pool in the garden - was to stub my toe on the hardest one that was left in the middle of the floor. My toe has gone funny shape and purple and I am left hobbling around and swearing. Karma is a terrible thing as it was only last weekend that I took the mick out of another mate for breaking his toe...

However, today I have received the proofs for Eating Blackbirds! I have now to read it all through again, knowing that what stays is actually what is printed. Quite scary really as although I have read Eats, Shoots and Leaves, I do have a tendancy to wing it when it comes to apostrophes... So, I will spend the day sat reading on the sofa, looking like my dad does when he sits amongst washing piled up either side of him, knowing that if he notices it, he has to do something about it.
The teapot is warmed, my red pen is poised and my toe is balanced on a large cushion, waiting for someone to notice it and provide a little sympathy - Huw has already informed me that I might be waiting some time...