The Glamour piece seems to have gone down well. Really well. In fact so well, that the producers of ITV’s This Morning called my publicist on the day the magazine came out and asked if I’d come on the show for an interview.
Holy. Wow.
It’s live. It’s a live TV show. I’m going to be on live TV.
You know what this means, don’t you? Yeah:
- Profuse sweating: it’ll be like that scene out of Broadcast News, when wotshisname does his first anchor spot and nearly drowns in his own sweat.
- Profuse profanity: I won’t be able to stop myself. I’m sure I’ll unknowingly colour the air around me blue with expletives. Maybe I should do the interview in sign language, that way I’ll offend a lot less people.
- Giggling. Lots of.
- Falling off the sofa: I won’t be able to coordinate my limbs.
- Inappropriate stroking of Philip Schofield’s hair. Maybe. Probably.
- Dropping things: you know in Lauren bacall’s first role in To Have and Have Not, she was so nervous that she kept her head down and looked up at the camera and consequently looked spectacularly gorgeous and sultry and divine? Well, it’s going to be exactly like that when I try to drink coffee from the mug in front of me. And by “exactly like that” I mean absolutely nothing like that and I’ll either drop the whole thing or just dribble down my front.
I might be just a tad nervous. Can you tell?
Tags: Advice for Strays · novelling · OMG · Writing9 Comments


















