Today is a day I never thought I’d live to see.

Today I have the day off work.

Today the sun is shining.

Today is a good day.

I know this because my iPhone told me and my iPhone knows everything:

I think I can realistically be described now as “squeeing my pants”.

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?

I might have ripped the plastic off with my teeth. I might have done that.

I might also have rolled around on them for a while, hugged them, kissed them, cried, laughed. Yep, I may have done a lot of that. I mean, just look how beautiful they are:

That’s all I’m going to say about it, because I’m overwhelmed.

Oh, I will say one more thing. I’ll beg you to buy it. Please? I need to be able to afford a hair cut at some stage this year.

I’ve been asked to do a 2000-word first person piece for Glamour magazine, one of the biggest selling glossies in the UK. This in itself was fairly gobsmacking, but when I heard there was a photo shoot in the offing too I was stunned. Everything has happened incredibly quickly, with the article going to press this coming Friday, and me only finishing the piece yesterday. The photo shoot, in my house, happened last Friday, with huge amounts of camera equipment, clothing and makeup taking over the whole house.

All three women, director, photographer and makeup/hair stylist, were fantastically friendly, fun and professional and I was very soon put at my ease and posing for the camera as if I’d always done it. The swinging from the light fittings may have been a tad much, but they managed to talk me down without losing their smiles. Anyway, they seem to have got some good shots to work with, despite my extreme jetlag. We. Shall. See.

The writing of the article, about the autobiographical elements of my novel to do with my relationship with my father, was difficult. Not least because of the painful issues I was dealing with but also because of the tight deadline. I don’t know how journalists can knock out so much copy with mere hours to spare. I work better under time pressure, but this was ridiculous.

Also, jetlag.

So, that’s me, wearing my own bodyweight in makeup, appearing in April’s edition of Glamour, out in March.

Did I mention the jetlag?

And because it’s hilarious, and I felt like a bloke in drag, a photo of me a couple of minutes after being dolled up, posing like a poser and wearing more makeup than all the makeup I’ve ever worn in my whole life put together. Also, false eyelashes. Yes, really:

Yes. Really.

Even more exciting was seeing the proof copy of Advice for Strays propped up on the main desk at the agency, right next to Ali Shaw’s wonderful and successful novel The Girl With The Glass Feet. Look how cosy they are together:

Now it’s really starting to feel real.

I found a package from my publisher yesterday when I got home after work, containing five proof copies of Advice for Strays.

What I did next:

• Gasped.
• Squeed.
• Almost threw up.
• Stroked them.
• Burst into tears.
• Laughed like a hyena.
• Cried some more.
• Smelled them.
• Opened one.
• Sobbed.
• Flicked through a few pages.
• Put it down.
• Fell off the sofa, on which I was kneeling, still in my coat and boots.
• Tried to get back up but tripped over the rug.
• Squealed.
• Whooped.
• Repeat.

These are just the proofs for reviewers and overseas publishers and other dignitaries, and the final novel will look like the central bit of the illustration you can see on the cover, but holy hell I’m unable to describe what it feels like to see my little book almost all growed up and printed and bound and my words inside and a photo of me on the back and my name, my name, on the cover.

I’ll calm down soon. Honest.

I spent some frenzied hours minutes taking photographs with my iPhone, then a few more dreamy minutes gazing at the copies.

And now I’ll have to get to work.

I have until 14th September to send any corrections I have back to the publisher. That’s plenty of time. But being Her Majesty’s Procrastinator-in-Chief, I shall leave it all until the afternoon of the 13th, panic, weep, throw things, sit down, get up, cry some more, open the proofs, get a beer, check Twitter and then spend all night working to get it done before the deadline.

Life is exciting.

On Thursday I received the cover artwork for my debut novel, Advice for Strays, from Jonathan Cape/Random House, my UK and Commonwealth publisher. I didn’t even know they’d commissioned any and had no idea what to expect but was bowled over with what I’ve got. I mean, look at it:

Seriously, I love it and it perfectly captures the strange, slightly menacing but humourous atmosphere of the book. It was created by the wonderful Italian illustrator and designer Valerio Vidali.

It’s on my Flickr, where you can see it much larger and in all its glory. You can even leave a comment there, should you be so inclined. Go on. You know you want to.

At the same time, I discovered that the book is already available for pre-order on Amazon. I know, right!

You can read more about the novel on the Conville & Walsh website.

And, yes, if you want to pre-order (!) you can, at Amazon.