I've slipped into my old ways. I don't mean for days and weeks to go by before I update this blog. But things get in the way, not to mention I actually forget I even have a blog! Anyway, just a quick update today...
Writing-wise, I'm forging ahead with book number three. Dare I say: Touch wood, it's going really well and I love it? No, probably not, although that's the truth at the moment. Something will no doubt happen to make me wonder where on earth it's going, why did I get into such a pickle... but for now, things are ticking along just as I'd like them to be. And I had very nice news earlier in the week regards a foreign deal. I won't go into the details until it's signed and sealed etc. but it made me very happy when my agent called. Oh, and I went to another enjoyable Headline 'do' at the end of the London Book Fair. It was a crime party. No, we didn't all have to commit one, but mug-shot and details of Unspoken (like the cover?) were up on a huge screen with other crime authors. It was in a rather smart club, and we (agent and I) mingled and met and talked and then, when I couldn't stand up any more*, I caught the train home. (*No, not because of the booze. See below)
I've had a rather bad leg, you see, and being on it in London - after three weeks of pain - forced me to the doctor the next day and then to the hospital for an X Ray. 'How long's it been like this?' the consultant asked. 'Three weeks,' I explained. 'Well it's broken,' he said. I refused plaster and so he gave me an Aircast. Amazing thing. Hardly Jimmy Choo but it does the trick. You pump it up. Instant relief. That was a couple of weeks ago and leg is feeling much more leg-like now, although my muscles have wasted away somewhat, while on the other leg, they have toned to body-builder proportions because I'm putting all weight on that side and using a crutch. I'm a bit of a 'before and after' person, really, all on the one body. And in case anyone's wondering, I broke it running. Not running for a bus, or chasing my youngest She-Devil around the garden, or even running away from a mugger. It was just plain old running. Jogging, if you like, in preparation for a ten kilometre race I was going to do with some friends in September. I think I'll stick to my swimming. And sitting. Running is clearly stupid.