Posted on by maryhadow

Famous

“We’ll do 1500 words on you.  Our last interviewees were Michael Morpurgo and David Owen,” says the journalist.

Hah! I’m going to be famous at last! Cover story of a highly influential and illustrious fortnightly newspaper called “The Moorlander”, bought by at least 550 people living across Dartmoor.

The publisher and editor, who’s also the photographer, turns out to be an old online date of mine – we met at The Two Bridges a few years ago and share numerous past acquaintances from our London days.

I am interviewed by a delightful young man called Ross, who was at school when I was living through the tragedy of Foot & Mouth. Ross told me that when they were informed about the outbreak, all his schoolmates put their feet into their mouths – ha ha; I’d never heard that one before.

Well he doesn’t really need to ask me anything, as I embark on two hours of talking about myself without pause for breath.

I’m finding that these days I’m washing my hair rather more often than usual, as I don’t like Him seeing me with hat-hair post horse-riding, and now I’ve really had to do it yet again for the photographs. I hope they’re good.  I have been looking my best ever, since I have become thin, tanned and happy, despite my great age.

“Could you wear anything but black?” requests Stephen, the photographer.

“No – I’ve been through that before with the Telegraph, so I wore grey and didn’t like it.  I gather that if you were the Daily Mail I would have to wear hideous bright primary colours.  But my signature colour is black,” I reply.

He hands me a current copy of the newspaper, which he established a couple of years ago because he was bored after retiring from Fleet Street.   It actually turns a healthy profit and has now reached a print-run of 9,000.

“Where do all your customers live?” I query. “Do sheep buy The Moorlander?

“Actually, thinking about it,  I need a plumber,” I continue. “Is there an ad for one in there? Now I understand its popularity,” as I reach for his copy, and discover, blow me down, that they’re planning three  pages on Moi, featuring a full page head shot.  Yikes!

It turns out that a couple of months ago they featured Faye’s godfather, who lives in Chagford and is one of my very best friends.  He was co-producer of Tubular Bells and is now one of the leading digital remastering engineers in the world, operating from his own studio based in central nowhere, working for some of the biggest names in the music business. Wow! Me and my ilk are beginning to come out of the woodwork now we’re retirement age!

I have to be fairly careful about what I say, as this thing is going to be read by an awful lot of people I know. I am probably going to annoy, as an over-privileged mad rich posh bird. Well I’m in the paper’s hands now, and there’s not a lot left I can do.

“Err – would you like me to write a column for you?” I suddenly burst out.  “Obviously you wouldn’t have to pay me!”

The publisher gently shows me the column they already run. It contains the same sort of stuff I’ve written here about vegans, only the paper’s writer is ruder. Bollocks.  I’m not sure I can compete with her.

But anyway.  The whole thing has given me a kick up the bum, and, after a month of severe romantic distraction, here I am, back writing again.

 

 

 

 

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Meet The Author – What Happened!

Well perhaps the best thing of all about the evening was that I found I could squeeze into my sparkly dress!  I’ve had that dress for longer than I’ve been a married/divorced woman.  It must be 25 years old.  It’s stretchy black lycra-stuff (probably from before lycra was invented) with tiger-stripes of sightly faded gold sequins. Mutton dressed as lamb but whatever.

And maybe the worst thing was that, as I was sitting down, I had a suspicion that the bottom bits of my Spanx were showing, as it’s too short.

Beautiful Nell asked each of the packed audience of six ladies and one man what they were reading at the moment (neither my potential date, nor the journalist-chap had shown).

“I’m a bit too busy to read at the moment,” replied two of the women.  Eh? I thought this was a Book Club!

“I’ve been recommended something called ‘You and Him’ or something,” said another.

Blimey! A book I’m familiar with!

“Perhaps you mean ‘Me Before You’ by Jojo Moyes I said, knowledgeably. “There’s a blockbuster film about it which you’ll have to be in the right mood to watch, because it will make you cry and cry.”

“I’m about to start Sapiens,” the fourth lady told us.

“Oh – the ironically titled ‘a brief history of humankind’ which is 900 pages long, and all the ladies on the beach in Spain were giving up on?” I responded.

No one laughed.

I was so grateful to my friend Karen, who, back in the day, was a deb who befriended Ex, when he was a ‘Deb’s Delight’ during his time at university in London, as she chatted away enthusiastically about the sort of literature that none of the rest of us will ever get anywhere near to.

Much as I enjoy the subject of ‘Moi’, in practice it was quite awkward not really being in a position to be able to engage with anyone attending about what interests them. There was not a great deal of reaction to anything I said, almost nobody had looked at my book, and I really don’t think they were there in order to find out more about what I have done.  It’s more of a social occasion – an excuse to  come out for a jolly evening, and possibly meet a bloke.

It was fun that the one chap there was most courteous to us all, and taller and weighed more than me.

All in all, an interesting, enjoyable and relaxing introduction to what it could be like if I were a proper author. Complete with exposed underwear.

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Skinny and Brown

I have now been skinny and brown for the whole summer.  What for? Nobody has seen the beautiful new me, and nobody cares.  And now my lovely tan is flaking off like snow onto the inside of my black leggings (I’ve gone down from an M&S Size 16 to 12, so most of my clothes don’t fit anymore).

I have combed both Encounters and Muddy Matches nationally, looking in vain for somebody I might like. Nobody at all.

Yet I’ve enjoyed one of the most wonderful summers of my life! A lot has to do with the weather. And more because there’s been a child or two here, keeping me sunny company ever since June. Perhaps I don’t really need a bloke in my life after all!

Today I’m delivering Will to the dentist for a filling, meanwhile Ben is dropping off a guitar that Will lent his son a year ago.  It is clear that Ben wants to catch me, rather than bringing it along earlier in the day.  Well I don’t want to see him.  Will can tell him that I’m ‘parking the car’ which will take me a remarkably long time.  Then I shall go and buy some flowers and eggs before my next lot of guests arrive at teatime.

Nell has just informed me that a journalist from the Chagford Herald thinks I might be interesting to interview at my ‘Authors Talk’ next week. And says he’s single. Oh dear. Call me arrogant but I would be a lot more interested he were editor of the Times or something.

BUT.  You never know what anything might lead on to. So I am very excited.  Perhaps from this small acorn a socking great oak might grow!

Posted on by maryhadow

Meet the Author – Moi!

“Are you sitting down?” I exclaim.  “His grandmother taught me and everyone else I know the piano til we were twelve! She had blue hair!”

This is the result of my meeting with the MD of the Dating/Events company who’s asked me to speak at her ‘Author’s Talk’ in September.  She appears to be more interested in matchmaking me than in my books which she hasn’t read.

She’d given me his name, and original family name, so obviously I stalked him on Google the minute she was out of the door, and top of the entries was an article he’d written in the Scottish Daily Mail about his famous composer grandfather, married to my ex-piano teacher.

She says he’s brainy and quirky – well I love all that; and shoots, so he understands my world.

I told her I’d give her a million quid if she found me the man of my dreams. But since then I’ve reduced my offer to a grand, as I don’t actually have a million.  And now I’m worrying about how and when you can actually tell that this is finally ‘the one’.  Perhaps there should be a scale of charges.  Maybe thirty quid if you find yourself sharing a thoroughly enjoyable, stimulating meal together, that gets you all excited.  A hundred quid if you sleep with them; three hundred if you’re still with them after three months; and a thousand if you marry them.

Meanwhile the 6′ willowy blonde vision of loveliness that comprises Nell, the agency owner, explains that the Author’s Evening will probably comprise only around eight people sitting in a circle in a very relaxed way, and I won’t need to have prepared a talk or anything. God – I could actually look forward to this. Two hours of talking about myself without stopping, to a rapt audience! Lovely jubbly!

 

 

 

 

Posted on by maryhadow

First Follower – I sound like Jesus!

Yesterday this new blog of mine received its first ‘like’ and its first ‘follower’.  Both came from a company that sells pencil cases called ‘Skool Dealz’.  I hope its customers turn out to be better at spelling than its CEO is.

Well today, my very best mate of all in the entire universe, AngiePangiePooPlops, to whom I’ve dedicated my second book for her ongoing support of all things Mary Hadow-related; has become my second ever signed-up follower.  To become one is a pain the arse, apparently, as you have to ‘join’ and all that crap.  Urgh.  I’ve promised Faye 1p for every ‘follower’ that she can produce, as I don’t really have a single clue what is going on with this whole thing.

I nice fellow-blogger called Leslie Nichole gave me my first ‘like’ before I’d even finished or titled the last blog – what’s that all about? There must be a whole load of extraordinary automatic things going on around this thing that I am totally unaware of.

In the meantime, I shall continue with my ‘Categories’ and ‘Tags’ and hope they make something happen.  I want 20,000 followers, like the person had to get on Instagram in a book I’ve just finished called ‘One In A Million’, and designated for the waste paper basket. So I’ve got to learn how its all done if I’m to achieve my aim, and Faye is to make herself £2,000 by assisting me, using her limited knowledge of the dreaded Sew-sherll Meedja.

I mean honestly – if people are literally signing up to follow things like this, there’ll be no need for books anymore!