Something Else

OK, I'm done writing book reviews now. It's like the dirt under your fingernails. Save it up and then clean it all out in one great satisfying go. Except most people probably don't do that and it's not really fair (or accurate) to compare book reviews to dirt. But apart from that, it's exactly the same.

Problem is, I don't have much else to tell you about. No book news (yet), and I've not been well so I've been sitting about on my rocking chair a lot and not doing much else.

I love my rocking chair. I can't remember what life was like without it.

This Friday I'm doing some more storytelling at the Chopin Bar in Chorlton (Manchester), but tickets were very limited and will almost certainly have all been booked by now. I'm hoping to write a new story for this tomorrow, health permitting.

Then on Saturday me and Felix are doing some, er, thing. Something on the telly. Or maybe it was the radio. At the BBC. Or perhaps it's Granada. Something to do with storytelling. I think we're helping to make a soundtrack. Er. This is what it's like in my brain most of the time. All a bit vague really.

Also, me and a delightful laydee wot I 'ave never met called Lynda Mangoro have created a kids' book together. We're getting the proofs this week, then once we're happy with it all we'll start flogging it. Me and that Ms Pepper are doing one, too. About a dragon. Called Stinky.

Apart from that, I ain't bin doin' nuffink. Well, I went to York. And walked some dogs. And cuddled some kittens, and laughed at their antics (they played Backgammon with us this evening). Nuffink else though.

Maybe tomorrow I'll think of something more interesting to say. Or maybe not.


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