Yay! Reaching the end of the shelf

Today is a big, BIG day.

Yes, it’s the day of the London marathon, and it all passed off smoothly and the word ‘marathon’ doesn’t bring a lump to your throat so much any more (which is a good thing, because I’m doing the Moonwalk in about 3 weeks and that’s a marathon too). But that’s not why it’s a big day for me.

I completed something, but instead of being 26.4 miles it was about four feet. And instead of taking 3 to 4 hours, it took about 5 years. Even so …. *proud face*

I started writing Threads in May of 2008, so almost exactly 5 years ago. It was eventually published (which looking back was extremely quick, but felt like aeons at the time) in September 2009. And so the shelf began. It’s the place next to where I sit in the shed, and it holds one copy of each version of each book, in each of the different languages and editions (ie paperback vs hardback, not sure what the technical term for that is yet), and the CDs, in the order in which they were published, starting with the four different-colour editions of Threads.

And today …. as I added the French paperback of Threads, the Polish paperback of The Look and the UK paperback of You Don’t Know me, I finally reached THE END OF THE SHELF. So I now have exactly one shelf of books published (thanks in VERY large measure to the efforts of Barry Cunningham and Elinor Bagenal at Chicken House), and it feels very good.

Here it is:


Big thanks to Hachette, and Chicken House Germany, and Piemme, and Maeva, and Cappelendamm, and Intrinseca and Egmont and Scholastic USA and so many other dedicated publishers all over the place for making it happen.

You may notice a certain colour theme emerging. By the time it got to You Don’t Know Me, I was begging for no more pink. Raspberrry pink happens to be my favourite colour, personally, but sometimes it can be seen as a shorthand for ‘girly and fluffy’ in the book and toy trade, and I don’t want my books to be dismissed as fluffy if I can avoid it. I really like the turquoise of the new book, echoing a certain dalliance with the colour during my Beads Boys & Bangles phase, and I hope to keep heading in that direction.

The new book looks good, by the way. Rachel Hickman and Steve Wells at Chicken House have done a fabulous job with it and I felt a bit mean, tucking it away on the shelf when it deserves to have those turquoise page edges stroked on a continual basis.

So what now?

New book, new shelf, and the joy of writing, for as long as I can make it happen.

What must Jacqueline Wilson’s bookshelves look like?

And JK Rowling’s?



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