DIY and Doing Lunch

What does an author who doesn't seem to have been out of the house for weeks and is sick of boxes and decorating do? Have lunch in London with her agent, of course.

Yes, on Monday I picked the plaster out of my hair, untangled myself from the sheets of stripped wallpaper, brushed off the dust, and took the train to London. (Of course, I had a shower too.) After a weekend of grot, it was nice to escape the dust and dirt and put on a bit of lippy and 'do' lunch. Having sworn never to get involved with a scrap of DIY again (after our last seven year renovation project), here we are, gasping and tut-tutting at quotes from professionals and rolling up our sleeves saying, We can do this much cheaper.

So I met with Anna here and we spent a few hours eating the tastiest food ever (way nicer than dust) and brainstorming my new novel. Having an agent is a Very Good Thing. Apart from being taken out for yummy lunches from time to time, it's like having a sensible me to talk to (acutally, it's way better than that!). Anna has a knack of being able to steer me away from ridiculous notions and set me straight on the ideas that have real substance. I pitched my idea to her. She loved it. She gave me ideas, we solved a problem, we got excited, and she was totally on my wavelength and had the same vision for this novel as me. She even loved the title.

Oh, and not that I'm one for name dropping or anything but cough *Jacqueline Wilson* cough was sitting a couple of tables away. As you can imagine, she kept pointing at me and saying really loudly, Oh my God! That's Sam Hayes over there! Of course, I just smiled sweetly at all the attention and got on with my scallops. It was funny. She'd been in the news that morning. Kids grow up too fast, apparently. Some people are saying that kids who read her books are helped along to premature adulthood by the themes in them. Suicidal mums, child abuse, death, divorce, teenage drinking and promiscuity.

But real life is real life. If Jacqueline Wilson's next book is about pink rabbits and happy families, apart from being boring, it's not going to change the world we live in. It's the 'Hundredth Monkey' effect. Now, if every author writes about bunnies and clean, happy people, then maybe we stand a chance. If you ask me, which no one is, then I reckon it's down to the parents. Yes, blame the parents. We don't have enough guilt. But when I buy a book for my daughters, I do wish they'd have an age rating printed on them. Something more specific than just being shelved in the 9 to 13 section. I don't have time to read the entire novel while browsing to check for disturbing bits. And what is a 'Young Adult'? Is that the same as an 'Old Child'? It's confusing. It's individual. It's down to the parents, up to the kids. But hey, good publicity if you can get it, eh?

Right, I'm off to get on with my killer idea. Fluffy bunny massacred by smiling child.

Sam xx