A week or so back I finally had my fifteen minutes of fame with a piece in the local paper, complete with the obligatory cheesy local paper photograph of me with my binoculars having apparently gone out for a spot of impromptu birdwatching and absent mindedly (these writer types) taken a copy of my own book with me*. Thus ‘outed’ I found myself, for the first time, actually meeting someone who had seen my picture in the paper and who knew me, first and foremost, as a writer.
I was braced for the (supposedly) usual questions – where do I get my ideas from, do I write with a pen or a pencil, are you writing a sequel – but the only question I actually got was: ‘So, this book of yours, how much is it selling for?’ ‘Six-ninety-nine,’ I was able to reply, as it has finally come out in proper cheapo paperback form. ‘Well, that’s good,’ was the reply. ‘That’s very affordable.’
You know, there was much angst on the radio a few days back that the recent catastrophes with the Royal Bank of Scotland and the like might have damaged the hard won Scottish reputation for prudence with money. Something tells me that it’s going to take more than a few wild bankers to overturn a stereotype that the entire nation seems bent on reinforcing.
Which is all a very long winded way of saying: any Scots out there who have not yet bought ot on cost grounds should click on over to Amazon where it is an even more affordable £4.89 and eligible for free UK delivery to boot.
*The distracted expression you could see on my face was due to having to look at the photographer while I could distinctly hear a woodpecker calling in the trees behind him