So far today I've breakfasted nightmarishly early with Joe Hill (who is now on his way to Germany. Say hello from me if you see him), been interviewed by the BBC about Jamie Hewlett, interviewed for the Independent on Sunday (really enjoyable interview, but by the end of it I started losing my voice again argh), photographed by the Independent on Sunday ("You know dad," said Holly, who has turned up for the day to make sure I'm alive and get hugged. "Your hair is doing some really interesting things today." By which she means it looks like it's getting ready to escape from my head and go hunting for weasels.)
This afternoon is the Forbidden Planet in Shaftsbury Avenue signing. We'll figure out how many things I'll sign for people when we see how long the lines are, I think. (They may not be too long: it's a grey rainy day of the sort people don't want to queue up in...)
PS: So it's recorded for posterity. I was very pleased with myself when I realised I could buy new underwear and socks for half the cost of getting the laundry done in the hotel. So I did. And I told editor Jo Fletcher this, proudly, and she said, to my chagrin, "Can I point out you could have washed them in the sink for nothing, dear?" an option that had not actually previously occurred to me.