It’s 10.08, and it’s already been a rollercoaster day.
David Bowie’s death was announced. My friends and I have been knocked off-course, like Sandra Bullock in Gravity. He was 69, but he was eternally young. He was still making music, still surprising and inspiring people around the world. I’ve just heard an interview with him where he said he felt eternally 20 (he was 57 at the time), and that’s how he felt to us too. His classic songs were the sound-track of our youth. It hurts. It really hurts.
I wrote about Bowie in Love Song. I had to, as it’s a book about lots of my musical heroes. I’m so glad I included him – more than once. Nina dances to one of his songs, and the musicians reminisce about playing with him. It’s a tiny, fictional connection. My tribute to a star of stars. RIP SpaceMan
Meanwhile, the bound copies of Love Song (with their beautiful yolk yellow covers, and some rather lovely swag) have gone out into the world. It’s always scary for a writer. Like sending your children off to nursery school. What will happen? Will anyone like them? Will they make friends?
Well, so far people seem to be falling in love. (So not like nursery school: more like college.) I’m so, so happy! Thank you to everyone who’s fallen for Jamie (and/or Angus, and/or Nina, and/or the other boys), and taken the time to tell me so.
Now back to writing. I have four stories on the go. Today I have Lauren Laverne in the background, on 6 Music, playing Bowie. In his honour, I will dance.