In Sad Men, I explore my love of prawn advertising, and reveal that in order to keep up with prawn-related happenings, I have set up a Google Alert. Recently, it brought me disturbing news. Tiny quantities of anti-depressants flushed down our sinks and toilets are having a dramatic effect on the behaviour of my favorite crustaceans.
Maybe I could use this new-found information next time I get a brief for an ad about chilled prawns.
I’ll get my coat.
Launch day. It’s where you sip champagne as you’re whisked from TV studio to radio studio, plugging your book. Copies fly off the shelves of Waterstones and Foyles, and the cybershelves of Amazon.
At least that’s what I once thought it would be like. The truth is that absolutely nothing happens. Nothing, that is, apart from feeling increasingly miserable as the day-long vigil in front of the computer shows that Sad Men is stubbornly stuck at 532,655 in the Amazon rankings. Which leads to the inescapable conclusion that no-one has the slightest interest in my book. And that I will never, ever, get another book deal. And that I need to get a proper job.
I hate launch day.