He’s terribly decent that way
He’s terribly decent that way.” That at least should cheer him up a little.. IT IS 10 minutes past four at Paddington station and the last Great Book Excursion of the century is about to begin. Waiting on the platform, as I puff into view, is Charlie, the world’s calmest publicity manager. We have five minutes before the Great Western service to Bristol departs This is my first trip with Charlie. Her predecessors, Louisa and Sarah, may well have warned her about my habit of arriving for trains at the very last minute, for she tells me she wasn’t in the slightest bit worried “I knew you’d make it,” she says.
Charlie immediately wants to know whether I get recognised often I admit, rather sadly, that I do not “It must be the glasses that I wear You see, I never wear them on screen. Also I think English people are more reluctant to come up to you and ask whether you are who they think you are.”
Blather, guff, blather The words were dying as they left my mouth. Later that night, on the return journey, there was a hubbub in our carriage A group of people were turning around and pointing I leant forward excitedly, sure that my hour had come Charlie would surely be impressed And then I became aware that everyone was looking beyond me. I turned, to see two of the Blue Peter presenters busily handing over signed photos of themselves to a happy group of fans. Thankfully, Charlie missed this.
The Great Book Excursion has become a two-yearly ritual. It involves setting off, by train and plane, around the towns and cities of Britain, accompanied by a minder from the publishers and a well-marked copy of the latest book. I know there are writers who loathe the whole business of public readings I love it.
I never feel I’ve taken ownership of the book until I’ve read it aloud in public (I immediately admit that this last sentence is worthy of inclusion in Pseuds Corner. Did I really write that?)Oh well, you understand what I mean. There is something exhilarating about standing in front of a crowd and reading something that you have written For me at least, if not for them. The question-and-answer session afterwards is always the best part. In Bristol, the crowd is made up of loyal Radio 4 listeners; they are, by and large, people who care about the world around them and are unafraid to show it.
