every day should be a susie day

How lucky am I?  Not only do I get to write books about cake, but this week I got to have afternoon tea with one of the people who reads them!   The utterly lovely Paige won the Mizz magazine ‘Tea with Susie’ star prize, and she and her family joined me and a few of the divine Scholastic ladies at the Wallace Collection in London.  Much tea, cake, book-talk and giggling was had – not to mention cartwheels in the sunshine (confession: I left that bit to Paige).  Keep up the dancing, Paige, and I hope you’re all having a lovely summer holiday this week!

  Judy Blume, Meg Cabot, and, um, Margery Allingham.  Plus Justine Larbalastier’s original version of this blog post, expressing her frustration at Bloomsbury’s choice of a shockingly disingenous cover for her YA novel Liar.  I’m thrilled to see that sanity has prevailed – and have the utmost respect for her courage in speaking out.

  Ooh!  Aah!  I shall have to be infuriatingly vague (since at the moment it’s still at the back-of-an-envelope stage and I haven’t even decided on the main character’s name yet), but I’m about to start my next book.  (Well, I’m about to go on holiday and do no work on it at all, actually – but after that, workiness will ensue, I promise.)  For the ultra-curious: think Groundhog Year.  Hmm… *plots*

  Frolicking around the Tower of London; building slightly less impressive towers for baby M to knock over; having pretty pictures taken for the My Invisible Boyfriend jacket by my super-talented friend Justa Mili; practising putting up my tent!

I’ve wanted a hammock since the summer after my GCSEs, when I spent an entire week at a French campsite refusing to budge out of one, while reading Dune.  (Truly, there cannot be more compelling evidence of the comfortableness of hammocks.  Sorry, sci-nerds, but that’s a 750-page turd of a book.)

Today the sun shone, I read the weekend Guardian cover to cover, and there were raspberries, and much tea.   Bliss.

  Nomnomnombooks. Lately I’ve read Scarlett Thomas’ PopCo, which is marginally less weird than The End of Mr Y, despite being about commercial globalisation, treasure-hunting, and complex mathematical formulae. Brilliant, though: the ideas are magnificent but it’s the characters I still miss, weeks later. Then Nicola Upson’s An Expert In Murder: faux 30s detective fiction, starring actual 30s detective fiction author Josephine Tey (do you see what she did there?), who gets embroiled in a series of murders connected to her play about Richard III.  Being a Tey geek, I adore the concept more than is reasonable, but the execution is a disappointment: in lieu of narrative urgency the point of view wanders from character to character, including to the killer – who conveniently happens not to be thinking “hmm, wish I hadn’t committed that murder” at the time – and Tey is barely in it. I’d go and read Brat Farrar instead if I were you (or Allingham’s Dancers in Mourning, for genuine Golden Age theatreland intrigue). I’ve also finally read a Jaclyn Moriarty, Becoming Bindy McKenzie (YA), which I adored with the queasy reservations of one who recognises bits of her teenage self in the (profoundly unlovely) heroine. The denouement is bonkers, but there’s so much brilliance before that you don’t mind at all. It’s the 3rd of her Ashbury books, and I plan to eat the others as soon as the library lets me.

  I have proofs!  One last pass over the insides of My Invisible Boyfriend (the US title for Girl Meets Cake), which is going to look beautiful.  And I’m playing with a new Sooper Sekrit Project: only a few thousand words in, but I’m getting a wee bit excited.  If I can juuust get the voice right…

Becoming enthralled by the televisual loveliness that is Chuck; watching Don Juan De Marco (Johnny Depp is so young! Marlon Brando is so… many other things); being dead chuffed about Anthony Browne being the new children’s laureate; eating lasagne; still loving RebelliousPixels’ Buffy vs Twilight satire vid (just in case you missed it); wondering if I can bring the hammock indoors at the end of the summer so I don’t have to contemplate life without it…

I am in awe of your collective gingerbread boyfriend-making skills, gentle readers!  Apparently inspired by having made 60 gingerbread personages (YEP! SIXTY!), the divine Rosie has produced a selection of mini-dress and monokini-ed gogo dancers, hippy chicks, and Nehru-jacketed Beatles, look!  Cor, etc.  Anna, meanwhile, has beaten me to the TARDIS with her spectacular selection of Gingerbread Doctors (and Donna too, hurrah) – not to mention some unidentifiable-by-me-but-probably-very-recognisable-if-you-know-who-they-are snooker players, who you will find in the Fabulous Bake-A-Boy Gallery along with many magnificent new pics! Applause all round to Tina, Jess, Alex, Cerys, Other Jess, James, Small Person, Josie, and anyone who volunteered to clean up the kitchen afterwards.  I hope your Gingerbread Beloveds were all as yummy as they looked.

I feel strangely hungry now.

  Sally Nicholls, Season of Secrets.  READ THIS BOOK.  I mean it.  Find yourself an enormous box of tissues first and someone to hug you at regular intervals, because it’s an unflinching look at the impact on a family of the death of a parent.  But don’t let that put you off, because – like her brilliant debut, Ways to Live Forever – it’s also extraordinary.  Like David Almond’s Skellig, a family tragedy runs parallel to a child’s encounter with an improbable saviour (in this case not an angel but the mythical Green Man), which represents all their fears regarding the terrifying fragility of life, but also offers the hope of renewal.  Unmissable and unforgettable.

Have also just read Joanna Nadin’s My So-Called Life, the first of her Rachel Riley series, which is very very funny (though there was a disappointing lack of Jordan Catalano), and made me feel really quite relieved I’m not 13.

  I’m currently writing a comedy/romance/sci-fi/musical set in Oxford/space/The Future/1832, in which a girl/boy/wisecracking armadillo sidekick have to save the cheerleader/save the world/save the Wispa bar all over again, and also fight crime/some Conquistadors/each other! with hilarious consequences.  It’s a Choose Your Own Adventure kind of thing.  Maybe.  Oh, all right, I’m not writing that really.  I quite want to now, though.  Who doesn’t love a wisecracking armadillo?  In the meantime, here’s my interview with the lovely Jenny at Wondrous Reads.

Being startled by how much I loved the new Star Trek (Gingerbread Kirk, Spock and McCoy? oh, I think so); cooking feijoada, mmm; getting overexcited by muppets all over again.

The Fabulous Bake-A-Boy Challenge: Sci-Fi Edition continues, boldly going where goldfish roes are nibbling at your toes…

Yep, that’s Lister, Rimmer, Kryten and the Cat of the good ship Red Dwarf, as created by the magnificent revision-avoiding hands of Nicky, James and Tom.  I do love how, even in gingerbread form, Rimmer is losing his hair.  (I’ve only seen the first episode of the reunion special thingy, but so far it falls into ‘not at all bad and surprisingly non-cheapo-looking given that they allegedly made it for ninepence’ category: phew.  Weird having no laughter track, though.)

Keep them coming, people!  I think the Bake-A-Boy gallery is going to need a Gingerbread Spock before long…

  I’ve been a bit hopelessly distracted, so nothing new on the bookish front (though I am itching to get my mitts on Sally Nicholls’ Season of Secrets, because Ways To Live Forever was great; Zombie Queen of Newbury High by Amanda Ashby, because ZOMBIES; and The Teashop Girls by Laura Schaefer, because in places it sounds spookily like Girl Meets Cake…). In the meantime, here’s Tanya Gold’s brilliant Guardian piece on YouTube ‘starlet’ Susan Boyle.

  I seem to be doing more unwriting than writing at the moment.  File The Becky Book under ‘You’ll Read It One Day, Probably’, because now I’m writing… something else.  Watch this space.  (Not literally, or your eyes will go funny.  At least get yourself a cup of tea or something: I might be a while.)  In the meantime, I’m at the final copyedit stage of My Invisible Boyfriend (ie the US version of Girl Meets Cake) – just as soon as I can get OpenOffice to play nicely with Word, sigh  – and they’ve been taking pretty pictures of pretty people for the cover!  It’s going to look so very gorgeous.

Getting sunburnt in Wales in April (???); having deep and meaningful discussions about the hobbies of mermaids with Small Person (“on weekends, they like to go to the garden centre”); melting into a very happy puddle in a turkish steam room (followed by a MINTY SHOWER, oh bliss); wondering why there’s still water dripping through the kitchen ceiling when my flat has been full of plumbers all week; feeling happyhappyhappy.

I have no idea at what point the Fabulous Bake-A-Boy Challenge turned into the Fabulous Bake-the-entire-cast-of-Blake’s-7 Challenge, but I suspect Heidi from GIRL MEETS CAKE would approve.  And they are rather adorable…

Clockwise from the left: Cally, Avon, Vila, Jenna, Servalan, Gan, with Blake in the middle.  Before hordes of fellow nerds beat me over the head – yes, I know Servalan isn’t actually one of the 7, but Gingerbread Orac was beyond even my skills.  Vila is a bit rubbish, alas, but I am terribly proud of Blake – and Gan was sort of accidental, but actually the resemblance is uncanny.  (Here’s the real Team Blake demonstrating what sleeves will be like in The Future: personally, I can’t wait.)  I still have a few distressingly naked gingerbread men left in the kitchen, so I may have to make Tarrant and Dayna and Soolin.  Or possibly a nice crickety Fifth Doctor…?

And yes, this is a perfectly sensible way to spend one’s time.  Ahem.  Feel free to join in, anyway: the Bake-a-Boy gallery needs more gingerbready lovemuppets!

  I’ve just finished Luisa Plaja’s brand-spanking-new Extreme Kissing, which I’m happy to report is every bit as sweet, funny and clever as Split By A Kiss.  Bethany and Carlota are best friends, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have secrets from each other.  Bets is terrified she might be pregnant, while Carlota’s not quite the girl everyone assumes – and their day of ‘Extreme Travelling’ (every move dictated by the random pages of a magazine) isn’t the escape from their troubles they’d hoped for.  The story whizzes along, alternately narrated by ‘good girl’ Bets and ‘wild child’ Lots, and even if you have a sneaking suspicion you’ve worked out Carlota’s secret, there might just be another one underneath… This is Plaja’s real gift: there’s a sense of absolute authenticity about her characters, whose lives (family, school, friends, boyfriends, past relationships, future hopes and fears) are so convincingly fleshed out that you really do end up caring about their multiple worries – and their triumphs too.  And of course, the whole thing feels effortlessly witty: Carlota’s ‘Reverse Goth’ fashion crusade, her tendency to knit under stress, the numerous moments where the girls completely misunderstand one another.  Perfect for Louise Rennison fans who like a little angst in with their teenage escapades!

  It’s publication day!  Girl Meets Cake is properly out in UK shops.  I’m celebrating by eating leftover cake from yesterday’s tea party while writing notes for The Becky Book (which isn’t called The Becky Book at all, obviously, but it’ll do for the minute).  Nom nom *pause for typing* nom.

  baking, baking, looking at pictures of Blake’s 7 costumes, baking…