The good, the bad and the ugly


Managed to do a plot for book 3 that seemed to weave the strands together without looking like a Gareth Pugh bondage dress. (In joke. Sorry. Look up Gareth Pugh dresses on Google Images, people. Strangely beautiful, but not designed as examples of masterful weaving.)

Didn’t buy an Odd Molly (I LOVE Odd Molly) silk dress that was reduced in my local shop from ‘WHAT? Are you JOKING????’ to ‘Oh, surely not?’. Loving my self restraint.

Got an email from my editor saying nice things about the last lot of line edits to book 2. My editor so knows how to put me in a good mood.

Lots of nice fan mail. Really lovely, thoughtful questions and a couple of great entries to the blog competition (see two posts ago – not too late to join them!). Thank you, people!


Told the three year-old it’s back to school tomorrow. The three year-old was inconsolable (‘but I don’t WANT to see my friends, Mummy’), until I mentioned ice-cream. And lots of it. The second we get home. Before lunch even. Oh, the joys of bribery.


I’ve been planning my outfit for Friday for ages. Got to make a speech in front of lots of publishing people. They won’t care for an instant what I’m wearing, but I will. I have one half-decent dress, that I got when I was supposedly shopping for my stepdaughters in Topshop before Christmas. Sorted.

But then I suddenly realised that on Thursday I’m judging the Threads fashion competition with A BUNCH OF FASHION INSIDERS. Who will totally notice what I’m wearing and will either leave the meeting laughing hollowly to themselves or … Well, probably plan A.

Do I ‘borrow’ the dress from the speech on Friday? In which case, what do I wear on Friday? Do I go back and buy the Odd Molly dress I was so proud of myself for not buying a couple of days ago? Do I dredge something else out of my wardrobe?

That Topshop dress (it looks better on, honest)

What would Meg Cabot do?

OK, Meg Cabot would have a wardrobe full of cute Marc Jacobs numbers and would simply pick  the closest/pinkest/cutest. And accessorise with a tiara. Job done.

Why is real life so much more complicated?

Next time I’m writing a book about accountancy. Or dog handling. Definitely nothing that will ever affect dress selection. I’m not sure I can handle the pressure.


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