I feel pretty, oh so pretty,

I feel witty and pretty (come on, join in Byron, you know you want to) and wise… Actually, I feel lumpy and self-conscious, but that doesn't rhyme.

This morning started later than normal, due to it actually being the weekend, and lo and behold the Lord said, “Let there be snow!” and there was. But it was a bit crap. Well, not crap, but pretty short lived. It was however, cause for celebration in Casa MacBride, as I need to take more of these darn author photo things for Holland Norway and the good old UK. Now the reason snow is good for this is down to Cold Granite being set in the run-up to Christmas, so you can see the connection. Better yet: the derelict farm cottage over the road is a dead ringer for one featuring in the book’s more gruesome scenes. Result! Especially as I’d written those bits long before we bought this house. To compound the coincidence, it’s been hidden behind a wall of dense vegetation for the last God knows how many years and only just been exposed because the farmer wants to build his dream house (and you know there are going to be LOADS of posts in the future whinging on about that!), so up until about a week ago I never even realised just how similar it is to a fictional place I made up to have nasty stuff happen in/around.

Of course, the minute we actually get ready and lumber out there to take the pic – Fiona has to help on this one as I don’t got no tripod yet – the bloody snow stops. But it’s the thought that counts I suppose.

This then results in an impromptu photo session in the bathroom mirror (steady ladies!) and some messing around in photoshop. Quite pleased with the results too. Maybe someone else will be, and they’ll actually go on a book jacket. If not, it’s back to the self aggrandising photography sessions.

All together now: “I feel pretty, oh so pretty…”