Ah come on....I've just written Preparing to Launch and it stuck itself onto Septenber 29th. That's a lie - I wrote that today.

GO on - check it out...scroll down and see that it refers to the week of Oct 9th - not way back then. Is it me or is there something in the ether out to get me? Well? Is it??

I like bookshop owners who trust that they will actually sell our books. Jeremy in Methvens is like that....some ladies came in and bought books and then we signed the rest - which he promised to put on the table up front. That's good. the covers are so beautiful, people have to stop and look. ..and buy.

Soft Voices Whispering has been out there a week now and so far the responses are very positive. That's a relief - I worried that the darker story and more lyrical style might be too heavy but no, apparently two so far have cried....and enjoyed the experience. One said, 'You have taken the ordinary and rendered it divine.' Read it and see.

We had dinner with friends Sat. The husband, fuelled with the best wine, commented that surely writing is an ART, I should do it for love and not for money. I said I loved money so was looking to shortcut the middleman and just make a fortune. He said that was cynical so I had to explain that, yes, writing is wonderful and even more wonderful when someone comes up and says how much they loved your book (always in a supermarket queue when you can't find your purse and haven't had time to brush your hair) but trying to publicise the book so folk buy it in the first place is time consuming, soul destroying, demoralising.

He refused to hear that. He said, 'You should do it for love of your art. Full stop.'

I said, 'Will you come to my house tomorrow and rearrange my pictures, my sofas and sort out my feng shui?' (He's an interior designer)

He said, 'Of course, darling, what time?'

'As early as possible.'

'I'd love to!'

I said, 'As you'd love to, will you do it for free?'

He said no.

Full Stop.

By 10.30 all the frantic tail chasing was done - beds ready for the in-laws; son's university application discussed and back on track; pr responses completed and posted off; nerves back to normal. I set off to my favourite place - anywhere the American Writers meet and discuss their work. The quickest route was via the Brooklands Roadso I went that way. Unfortunately,the quickest means of transport was by helicopter. I have a blue mini.

Halfway down the road, the truck in front ground to a halt and we lined up patiently behind him. He was wide but not so wide that a little mini couldn't squeeze through. That's what the fellow on the far side of him though too.He flashedhis lights; I flashed my eyelashes and pressed the accelerator.

Then the eejit behind him had a great idea. Apparently....even if you're in a bloody great 4-wheel drive, you can squeeze through a gap if you stare straight ahead and suck your cheeks in. By the look on his face, all four cheeks were involved and two of them weren't used to it. Within seconds, he was stuck, the fellow behind him was stuck, the truck was still stalled and I couldn't go anywhere.

Ten minutes passed. I debated getting out and telling him whatI thought but my photograph is in two local magazines this month and he'd know who I was if he was local/literate. And he looked like the sort who'd follow you ome and duff you.

So, in the best tradition of a menopausal, middle aged, confused and not very enlightened when she isn't (Not true - I was acting,okay?) I executed a perfect 9-point turn and came home.

Then I get a call from Kelly to say that there were only three at the meeting (it's half term) and now I realise that I should have gone there first and left the other stuff to sort itself out later.Is this going to one of those days?

I hope not. TOnight I'm going to a launch party for a book called Felicity Fights Back by Stella Sykes at Christies in London. I met Stella in the summer. She's a new comic writer and her book made me laugh out loud. I hope she's successful.

I hope I get there.

I will not be going via the Brooklands Road.

The bash was posh - Christies in London. Walls covered in paintings and a large pulpit up front - I'd have loved a turn up there, telling a few stories. I'll have to be an item first.

Quite a lot of working the room and people watching went on - wonderful and the piles of Felicity Fights Back diminished rapidly. Good for Stella. I re-read it on the train.

One question asked - why blog? isn't it time wasting?

No - it's purging so that you don't waste brainspace later thinking about things.

Works for me. And I lke the soundbites.