‘Tis done. First draft of Anyone for Seconds? is on its way to my editor and I, as is my custom after delivering a book, am leaving the country. I used to run away because I feared being unmasked at long last. The dreaded knock. The Literary Police on my doorstep.
‘Laurie Graham, we have reason to believe that you have been impersonating a publishable author and we must ask you to accompany us to the British Library.’
Now I just go away out of habit. Click SEND, pull out suitcase.
This afternoon, as I typed the title page – always the very last thing I do – it occurred to me that we’re leaving ourselves a bit exposed with this title. There’s the danger a waggish reviewer may say, ‘Seconds? No thanks. We’ve had more than enough.’ Well, it is what it is and I am now officially unemployed. Which is the stuff of nightmares but also of exciting hare-brained ideas.