August 2008 Archives

Right, then, as I may have mentioned, I'm a runner.  I've done two marathons so far (2003 Dublin, 2005 London), and I can now say that I've got a charity place for the 2009 London Marathon, for which I'm already training.

I'm running for Shelter, the very excellent housing and homelessness charity, and I've agreed to raise 1700 pounds minimum (about $3300).  I'm not worried at all, because you all out there are going to help me, now aren't you?

I'll be trailing this ad infinitum in the coming months, doing email whip-rounds, dropping hints here and there, but let's call this a polite opening.  If you'd like to visit my fund-raising page and donate to a brilliant good cause, well, then, that would karmically be very good for you, now, wouldn't it?  I'm only thinking of you here...

More anon (but visit the page).

I wonder if they'll keep her?

The house still feels weird without the cat, but I'm not quite so undignified about it anymore.  I've even seen a couple shows:  Marguerite with Ruthie Henshall, which feels like a quick summary of a better musical, and Waves at the National, which you should catch before it heads off to Broadway.

At the interval of Waves, I happened to spot the talented, young (and quite goodlooking in person) folk singer Tim van Eyken outside and said hello as a fan.  He's in War Horse, which has returned to the National and is definitely worth seeing.

I'm also upping my training runs for a fantastically dubious-sounding half-marathon I'm doing in October called Run To The Beat, and I've signed up for my first triathlon, giving me a full year to prepare and learn how to properly cycle.

And I just finished reading Salman Rushdie's excellent The Enchantress of Florence.  A lot of people who should know better say a lot of very stupid things about Salman Rushdie.  I'm thinking of Boris Johnson who moaned on Question Time, "Oh, I could never get through a page..."  I'm afraid that will only ever say more about Boris Johnson than it ever will about Salman Rushdie. 

I wrote last week that we'd had a reprieve for our laid-back, kick-ass, extremely dusty moggie, Dietrich (named after Bonhoffer, not Marlene; honestly, the assumptions you people make; look up Dietrich Bonhoffer, you'll be impressed).

In a big unfortunately, the reprieve wasn't to be.  He was just getting too far along in years and it wasn't working.  So this afternoon, we had to take him to the vet and let him go.  I didn't handle it very well, but oh, well.

I'm not one of those people who ascribe human thoughts and motives to their pets (see Manchee in the book; he's genuinely what I believe dogs would be like if they could talk).  Dietrich only ever thought like a cat and acted like a cat and, as any pet owner knows, that's more than plenty.

So, I already miss him.  It was the right thing to do and it's the last favour you owe your pet.  But it still feels pretty terrible. 

Phew, what a weekend, eh?  How was it for you?

Saturday I ran in a 10k race sponsored by my running club, London FrontRunners.  I ran it (rather slowly, yes, shut up, but we only ever race against ourselves, don't we?) in 49:30, which was a personal best (the official time is a bit slower, but the race sold out so it took a bit to get over the start line).  My club does a fantastic job running it, I must say.  Everything professional and easy.  They even had Andy Bell starting us off.

Also on Saturday, there was a new review of The Knife of Never Letting Go in the Times which was very nice indeed.

And I wrote the Book of the Week review in Saturday's Guardian of Kate Atkinson's When Will There Be Good News?  My original wasn't quite as American-ly enthusiastic as what was printed; I was a bit more subtle in my praise, but it's very bad form to complain about sub-editing, so I won't.

And then Sunday I woke up at the crack of dawn with my eye swelled shut.  I went to casualty where I discovered I had a "particularly bad" eye infection.  No kidding, since I felt fine when I switched off the light to go to bed the night before.  Nevertheless, I'm one normal eye, one monstrously red eye this morning.  You know, there really isn't anything less sexy on earth than the word "ointment".

With all due respect to Michael Phelps and the like, it seems like you can pretty much just trip and fall into the Water Cube pool and break a world record.  Anyone else getting the feeling that perhaps it's not quite 50m after all?  Maybe the real 50m pool sang the song, but it's the 49.9m pool that gets the face-time on television.

To celebrate, the much ballyhooed iPod of Long.  These are proper songs, no remixes or extended versions allowed.  6 songs, 65 minutes, 10 seconds.

Jesus of Suburbia by Green day, 9:08 (from the dreaded "song suite" genre; might be the only example in history that actually works)

Old Whore's Diet by Rufus Wainwright, 9:09  (in concert he sang it in striped leggings and a thong)

Tam Lyn Retold by Benjamin Zephaniah and Eliza Carthy, 9:22 (an ancient folk song retold with beats and Zephaniah's poetry, really quite something)

Rock Me Gently by Erasure, 10:02  (Erasure echoing Pink Floyd with Diamanda Galas being strangled in the background)

Welcome to the Pleasuredome by Frankie Goes to Hollywood, 13:41  (Was there ever really a Frankie Goes to Hollywood or were they just a dream we were all having?)

O'Malley's Bar by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, 14.28 (from the infamous murder ballads album; if you manage to reach the end, any faith you have in humanity will have been drowned in a bag with a brick).

Off to go wash my hands in China and set a new world record.

Because!  Because I have officially turned in the final version of book two of the Chaos Walking trilogy.  Now starts two processes:  1) it gets prepared for publication next May in the UK (including a brilliant cover which I've already seen early versions of) and 2) I start writing book three.

But for now, I can reveal (after giving it exclusively to the lovely people at The Buzz) that the title of the follow-up to The Knife of Never Letting Go is (wait for it)....       The Ask and The Answer.  And just wait til you see what happens.

There's lots to go before it comes out, of course, including the paperback of Knife (which'll be in January and which I'll be promoting to the stars, naturally).  This is just a teasing teaser and a reassurance to all of you who've read Knife that, yes, indeed, the countdown can begin.  And if you haven't read Knife, well, you'll just have to see what all the fuss is about, won't you?

I'm also in a good mood because we've just got back from the vet where we thought we might have to put our rough-and-tumble moggie to sleep.  But no, we got some medication, so there's life in the (very) old boy yet.  (Maybe not much more, but he still purrs when you pet him so we'll take it for as along he wants to give it).

The archive page for The Buzz is now updated with both my appearance on 29 July and the episode where the three rather clever young reviewers take a look at The Knife of Never Letting Go on 31 July.  I'm about 10 minutes into my episode, and the reviewers start on my book about 4 minutes into theirs.

And what a calm and smart job they do, too.  Very impressive, and I certainly do not blame an 11-year-old girl for not knowing what "twixt" means.

In a hurry?  Ten great songs, all under two minutes.   Total running time, 15 minutes, 10 seconds.

Minimum Wage by They Might Be Giants (43 seconds and you'll remember the words)

Being In Love by Meryn Cadell (60 seconds, it "really sucks", by the way)

Just Like Anyone by Aimee Mann (83 seconds, an actual proper song)

Underneath the Bunker by R.E.M.  (88 seconds, second appearance but worth it)

Absolutely Cuckoo by Magnetic Fields  (95 seconds, hear it once and then spend a day memorising the lyrics so you can sing it to your friends)

Blame Canada from South Park the Movie (96 seconds, I could have chosen much worse, but young people read this website)

I Think He's Gay by Pussy Tourette (97 seconds, like this song, for example)

Spanish Main by The Coral (113 seconds, there aren't enough pirate rock songs, are there?)

Fitter Happier by Radiohead (117 seconds, Radiohead just as they go all weird)

Particle Man by They Might Be Giants (118 seconds, yes, I know, 2 TMBG songs, but how can you leave off Particle Man?)

Big book news announcing soon and the iPod of Long can't be too far behind...

I consider it a public service to be able to warn you off of They're Playing Our Song at the usually excellent Menier Chocolate Factory.  After an absolutely eternal wait to get to the interval, I turned to my friend Michael and said, "My God, it's like watching an autopsy."

Alistair McGowan and that nice Connie Fisher play simulacrums of Marvin Hamlisch and Carole Bayer Sager (singing "songs" by Hamlisch and Sager that were the worst sort of 70s Adult Contemporary terrible) in a script by Neil Simon.  Can we all finally, and I mean once and for all admit that Neil Simon just isn't that funny?  Never was, certainly never will be?

It was excruciating, to the point where I was embarrassed for the actors.  No funny lines, no chemistry, no plot, just lots of enforced "kookiness" and half-assed acting.  Avoid, avoid like the plague, and I'm not the only one who thinks so.  Check out West End Whingers, who always say it better than I could.

Right, there was a bit of a technical snafu with archiving my particular appearance on The Buzz so there's been a teeny delay getting it up on the archive page, but the lovely producers have very kindly put up my bit on YouTube (and here's another link to the same page).  So, view away!  And do I really sound like that?

But do keep checking The Buzz's archive page because on the 31 July episode, three young reviewers take a look at The Knife of Never Letting Go.  I haven't seen this bit yet, so I'll be finding out when you do...

And finally, Knife has just been longlisted for the wonderfully named Inky, the Australian teenage book prize.  There's a longlist of 10 Australian titles and 10 International titles.  I'm international (aren't I ever?), so again I say, very nifty.  And if I win, you bet I'm cadging a trip.