Yesterday I had to have my photo taken for the local newspaper.
This was for the article about my current book in the shops, Cordero's Forced Bride. This is the way the life of a writer goes - working on publicity for a book I wrote last year while I'm deep in the creation of the latest book.
And being deep in the creation of the latest book means that my office is is a mess - a total tip. So I looked around in despair, knowing the photographer was coming and you couldn't see my desk for bits of paper, notes, scribbles, empty glasses, empty mugs . . . And the floor to was full. It becomes my 'filing cabinet' at times like this and the closer my dreadline comes, the worse the mess.
This was for the article about my current book in the shops, Cordero's Forced Bride. This is the way the life of a writer goes - working on publicity for a book I wrote last year while I'm deep in the creation of the latest book.And being deep in the creation of the latest book means that my office is is a mess - a total tip. So I looked around in despair, knowing the photographer was coming and you couldn't see my desk for bits of paper, notes, scribbles, empty glasses, empty mugs . . . And the floor to was full. It becomes my 'filing cabinet' at times like this and the closer my dreadline comes, the worse the mess.
I didn't have time to tidy or sort it so I resorted to the pragmatic approach - grab piles of 'stuff'. Take piles of 'stuff' to the dining rook. Deposit stuff on the dining room table. Repeat until the office looks presentable. Dining room now looks a tip but the photographer isn't looking at dining-room.
Firmly close door on dining room.
Open front door to photographer and smile.
The final irony of all this? The photographer has a rush of blood to his creative imagination and decides he wants to try something different - 'something different' involves me lying on the floor with dozens of my books in all sorts of translations spread out around my head. ('Well, these books all came out of your head,' he says!) Which means that by the time he is finished and leaves, the floor is in as bad a state as ever, with all these books now scattered all over the floor. And I still have the stuff that is piled up on the dining room table!
I haven't seen the photos yet but if any of them turn out OK, I'll share them with you. Though I suspect that the 'lying on the floor' ones are going to look wierd!
Oh yes, and when I had to move everything - there were two large lumps of fur that had to move from the windowsill as well.
I think they've forgiven me now that they - and their cosy beds - are back on the sill.
3 comments:
Oh, Kate, I can just see you doing that! :o) I did a similar thing last time I was in that situation (except mine involved several cardboard boxes and a promise from the photographer that he wouldn't get them in the shot).
And we ended up in the garden. With a dog bouncing round us, wanting to be in the shot...
Glad the furs have now forgiven you. And it is entirely your own fault for writing so many books that the photographer was able to indulge in his weird idea.
Um, that didn't come across quite the way I meant...
I can just imagine how completely unimpressed your furchildren were! Beds are sacred aren't they? I've found you can only move them on pain of death (and maybe not even then). In fact the photographer probably would have had to work around my disgruntled animals (and not the other way around... I think that means I over indulge them...). So funny to clean one room only to end up with two messes (what are the chances?) :)
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