Sunday, May 24, 2009

PROBABLY THE MOST BIZARRE INTERVIEW I'VE EVER DONE

Today, I had a long list of things to do. Instead of doing any of them, I had a load of fun being interviewed by "one of the most important interviewers in the world". And guess who won the contest? (Sorry, I mean "interview").

Enjoy!

Friday, May 22, 2009

Madness in Morningside


Morningside, in case you wondered, is where I live. It's also, by incredible coincidence, where my forthcoming book, DEATHWATCH, is set.

I am entirely mad. I have evidence: a folder on my laptop, entitled "Deathwatch Promotion" and 54 documents in it. And that's after I had a bit of a clean-out.

I don't need to do this. (No, I mean I do need to do the clean-out but I don't need to do all the mad promotion.) After all, I've got lovely publishers with a great marketing team who even have that rare thing, a BUDGET, and here I am exhausting myself with plans and wheezes and tasks which take a four page doc even to list.

Probably the maddest idea occurred to me one perfectly normal grey day back in March. Why don’t I see if I can set a world record for the greatest number of school visits by one author in one day, I thought. Why not, indeed? Now, as the time draws near (June 15th is Deathwatch Dash Day, or D3), I can think of reasons why not. But my problem is not that I have ideas, it’s that I tell people them, and then I have to ACT on them. So, after I’d tripped along to Vanessa’s Children’s Bookshop around the corner from my house in Edinburgh (my only house, I hasten to add - I’m not claiming expenses on a second home) and asked her to do the book-selling, she leapt on the idea - not literally - and that was it. Trapped by my own stupidity.

Apart from that, I am surrounded by lists that say things like:
  1. organise competition for D3
  2. organise different competition for all Scottish schools
  3. buy lots and lots of chocolate
  4. decide who I can face asking to look after the dog on 18 separate days
  5. make a list of lists
  6. sign 600 postcards which I've had designed for every D3 pupil
  7. sign 1000 other little cards for other events
  8. plan 9 entirely different talks
  9. make sure I've got enough posters for everyone
  10. make sure I know where I should be on any given day - this may not work
  11. put reviews on website
  12. make food for meal after launch party
  13. tell more people about the You-Tube video, stunning screensaver and other free downloady stuff
  14. get really really really scared
  15. check Amazon and Google. Again.
  16. the list goes on
  17. and frankly I haven't put half the important stuff on it - it looks too scary
Why do I do all this when I've got a great marketing team at Walker Books? Fear, is why. Sheer terror that my new baby will drown, that no one will see it, or people will hate it, or ...

Aghhh - radical thought alert. There's only one way to make sure no one hates it: DON'T TELL ANYONE ABOUT IT.

Why didn't I think of that?

DEATHWATCH PROJECTS

A lot of people think I'm mad. I don't blame them. After all, I've got lovely publishers with a great marketing team who even have that rare thing, a BUDGET, and here I am leaping in with totally crazy ideas, setting world records (literally), madly running round the country, making podcasts and You-tube videos and fielding hundreds of emails from schools and readers and my dog. I really did get an email from my dog. Or I thought I had, since my dog’s called Amber, and a person called Amber just emailed me to ask when she could read Deathwatch because she’d heard about it from a friend who’d heard about it from a friend who’d even been sent the lovely beetle viral for her phone.

What’s this about a world record, I hear you ask? That was probably the maddest of my mad ideas. Hey, I thought, one perfectly normal grey day back in March, why don’t I see if I can set a world record for the greatest number of school visits by one author in one day? Why not, indeed? Now, as the time draws near (June 15th is Deathwatch Dash Day, or D3), I can think of reasons why not. But my problem is not that I have ideas, it’s that I tell people them, and then I have to ACT on them. So, after I’d tripped along to Vanessa’s Children’s Bookshop around the corner from my house in Edinburgh (my only house, I hasten to add - I’m not claiming expenses on a second home) and asked her to do the book-selling, she leapt on the idea - not literally - and that was it.

Trapped by my own stupidity. I am writing this blog post now, ten scary days before publication, because if I wait until after D3 and the huge launch party at The Mary Erskine School and the big school events and my trips to Aberdeen and London and umpteen other places in between, I may not be in a fit state to write anything at all.

Before I go, I have to tell you the thing that could have been madness but wasn’t. Supposing I said: I’m going to get some teenagers to commit to a two year project involving a book, which they will have to do mostly in their own spare time. You’d think I was mad. Well, two years ago I asked 14 girls from The Mary Erskine School in Edinburgh to help write Deathwatch and be my consultants throughout all the drafts, and then handed over the youth promotion to them. Yep, I handed over responsibility for my new baby to some teenage girls with a lot of other things on their agendas, because I trusted them. And they didn’t let me down. Amazing is one word. Walker Books even thought this was a good idea too, which shows how much they respect young people - and well they might, since they publish books for them.

So, thank you to Walker, thank you to the Deathwatch Girls, and thank you to whichever chocolate manufacturer I decide to choose to fuel and support me during my mad month.

Friday, May 01, 2009

The day I climbed a mountain

I am feeling pretty pleased with myself. I went for a little walk, with husband and crippled labrador. And here's what we walked to the top of. Yes, that. No, really. That big thing in the middle of the pic. Stac Pollaidh (Stac Polly) it's called and very lovely it is too. Especially when you're looking at it from the bottom.



The dog couldn't manage the last bit (they don't make pitons and crampons and things for dogs) so we took it in turns, and when I scaled the summit, this happened:




I began to write the headlines: "Stupid city wallies cause expensive air rescue after accidentally walking up a mountain with only chocolate as emergency rations."

Or, as I prefer, "Writer has head in the clouds."

Deathwatch - the movie ....

Deathwatch the Movie? Not yet, but only time will tell. Almost certainly a rather long time; so, since you don't have a long time to wait, you could try this little taster. Two short extracts read by yours truly and with the stunning screensaver as the backdrop.