First Monday of the year

Right, that’s us all back to normal now – She Who Must Bring Home The Bacon* is off to work (not exactly skipping and making with the happy la-la’s, but there you go), the in-laws are back off to Darkest Fife, and I’m sitting in front of the computer typing rubbish at an unknown quantity of people. Hurrah!

I promised you a retrospective of 2005, but I lied. No retrospective for you, naughty people. Come on, who wants to read about it anyway? What? Well... no... shut up! ... leave me alone! OK, OK: Jesus...

What I did do on my 2005 (by Stuart aged six and a half)


The first draft of what will become DYING LIGHT is finished! And at last the world can see I’m much prettier than J Rickards ESQ and my shirt fits too.


I reveal my guilty secret – I am to become an bearded write-ist. And the cat gets bugs in her lugs.


A visit to Norway leads to fancy food, nice people and a mauling by Norwegian national radio and other assorted journalists. I go to London and learn how to manuipulate the media Bwahahahahaaaa...


I give up the day job (for a year) and almost get blinded by the cat, then it was the book launch! Lovely people from Ottakar’s ply me and a weirdo with wine and canapés. Only I don’t get any of the canapés.


Fighting like a bastard to drag up a new title for book 2 and scientists working in the shed at the bottom of our garden come up with a way to help those poor souls afflicted with naked chin syndrome.


BRAS! Lovely women’s bras! and then some rotten buggers make fun of me to win books from the naughty, evil Lynn. And and there are slugs in my garden.


HARROGATE! One of the high points of the year. And as if that wasn’t bounty enough, I also got two books from a pair of lovely ladies and a cat-sized quilt too!


Edinburgh International Book Festival and reprobates! Reprobates I tells ya! And then I go and spoil it all by making fun of some poor wee lad who ended up losing his virginity without thinking...


Fist instalment of Skeleton Bob is unleashed on an unsuspecting world, and She Who Musts laments another birthday. And James gets an agent! Hurrah!


I do my first solo event at Huntly and nobody throws anything. I don’t get a postcard from Italy and come up with one of the most stupid ideas I’ll have all year.


My one-man Beardy Wierdy tour hits Lanark and I meet a nice performance poet. Ahem... Goodling Brother Christopher and SIL Kim come up with a new protagonist for my second series of books. And Stuart goes drinking in London. Again. But doesn't win no Daggers. And Trace gets a book deal!


I am very stooopid and post these: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

* And cheese and mince and garlic and maybe a nice bottle of shiraz...