I had a lovely time at the Hutchinson Proof Party. The Spiegeltent was incredible, it felt like we were inside a carousel or a small circus tent - an appropriate venue for Dea's novel which contains a travelling circus.
It was really exciting to share a stage with Dea and Helen. I've read their novels and can't quite believe that I was allowed to sit next to them and talk about my book in front of so many people.
I had an interesting journey home. There had been a Warrington and Wigan rugby match and when I got to Manchester Piccadilly the police were segregating supporters (and anyone who happened to be inadvertently travelling with them). We were held in a long queue until after the time our train was supposed to leave. Eventually we were herded into a carriage; I've never seen so many people on a train (and I've never brushed up against so many big-bellied men).
I ended up sitting next to a little boy with a vuvuzela, a man in front of me was bleeding and appeared to have a broken nose. We stopped at Hinckley because someone was hurt (I think they fell off the train) and the conductor needed to wait for the ambulance. Did I mention the vuvuzela? It was a memorable, if somewhat bonkers end to a lovely day.
Here is an account of the event written by book blogger and reviewer Naomi Frisbee.
It was really exciting to share a stage with Dea and Helen. I've read their novels and can't quite believe that I was allowed to sit next to them and talk about my book in front of so many people.
Here I am afterwards with Dea and Helen (and half a sandwich stuck in my right cheek).
I had an interesting journey home. There had been a Warrington and Wigan rugby match and when I got to Manchester Piccadilly the police were segregating supporters (and anyone who happened to be inadvertently travelling with them). We were held in a long queue until after the time our train was supposed to leave. Eventually we were herded into a carriage; I've never seen so many people on a train (and I've never brushed up against so many big-bellied men).
I ended up sitting next to a little boy with a vuvuzela, a man in front of me was bleeding and appeared to have a broken nose. We stopped at Hinckley because someone was hurt (I think they fell off the train) and the conductor needed to wait for the ambulance. Did I mention the vuvuzela? It was a memorable, if somewhat bonkers end to a lovely day.
Here is an account of the event written by book blogger and reviewer Naomi Frisbee.
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