I had fun yesterday, handing out awards certificates, medals and bookmarks to (I think) around 90 children who'd completed the library Summer Reading Challenge of reading six books over the summer hols. It's a fantastic scheme and a terrific achievement and I think a big hurrah should go to all who completed it, and also all who supported it; ie the library's staff and the mums and dads who make it possible for their children to get to the library.

I was also lovely to meet the head of Cheshire Libraries who, even though she initially introduced me as Nick Griffin (hmm, leader of the BNP - NOT me then) was fab.

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It was a real family get-together, with Youngest Step-daughter, Clever-Son-In-Law and their two little ones also making the pilgrimage. Hubby's parents were unable to make it as they had an appointment with Buckingham Palace (they truly did - will explain another time

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Mavis, my Harper Collins publicist, is demonstrating a point in an effort to diffuse my anger. She holds a sheet of A4 paper rolled into a ball and points at one of those holes in a desk ringed with plastic that computer cables run through. This one is currently unused.

“This is what it’s like selling books,” she says. She hands me the ball. “Throw this through there.”

I glare at her then casually toss the paper at the hole five metres away. It falls through it without touching the sides and then I look at her to see what her point is.

“Oh,” she says. “I didn’t expect that.”

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Was really pleased to see that Maloney’s Law received a brief but nice mention on Scott Pack’s blog of 8 September (see full post for links) – for which I’m very grateful indeed. Heck, with my sales record, I need all the mentions I can get. I also rather like being described as “genre-busting” – I now have a vision of myself sporting a brace of pistols, a whip and a determined expression leaping into action as I clatter away on the keyboard. Hmm, that’s probably enough to make everyone run to the hills indeed …


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Every now and again (NOT very often) I find something, read something, hear something that just blows my mind. Something that feels right, like it could have been created just for me. Something that's so good it's like there's nothing to compare it to.


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Into the swing of the first day of term today, though it’s still a couple of weeks till Freshers’ Week. Am rushing around chasing up the final tweaks to our programme of talks and I'm also proof-reading for Britain. Ah, if only that were an Olympic sport, eh ... Not only that but the new brochures and mini-maps have turned up and they look great. Marketing have done a fabulous job. So, for a Monday, and a Monday when we have the first of our long line of 5.30pm end-of-day times (groan), it’s not been too bad. So far …


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The nicest thing that happened yesterday was seeing the final artwork from the illustrator who's been working on my story for Smokelong Quarterly.

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Saturday afternoon in a sunny Glasgow - now this is the September I was dreaming about. I took myself off to the West-end; the poor end, Partick and all its wonderfully cheap charity shops - after only two I was weighed down with bags. So lumbered that I had to find somewhere to relax with coffee; and here we are, well just me because I couldn't get hold of Herman, in a window with sharp shadows and bright sun making it all look very arty.


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When they're not growling at each other because one wants to build a tower and the other wants to knock it down, The Girl (4) and The Boy (21 months) are heartbreakingly nice to each other.

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