Saturday, August 24, 2002
There's nothing like a week of dead computer on tour to confuse a journal like this. I mean, at lunchtime today, Saturday, I went to Dundee and signed books, and this evening I did an Edinburgh Book Festival event with authors Anne Fine and Paul Magrs about writing for teens, which got fun towards the end when we were able to disagree on things. And in the journal I've not yet gone to Canterbury, let along done the Wednesday Harrods signing (where there was a man who embarrassed his 12 year old daughter in the signing line, announcing loudly "She thought you were really good-looking when she saw you signing books, and so she spent her own money on buying your book and wants you to sign it" as his poor daughter turned several shades of scarlet and looked as if she wanted to collapse in on herself, to just implode so there was nothing left but a small embarrassed grunt, and a certain amount of deep hatred for her dad that might carry through to her thirties) or the Forbidden Planet afternoon and Foyles evening on Thursday....

Anyway. Here in Edinburgh. Another long day. Aren't they all, on tour? Going to bed now.