When I’m at my laptop I am not always ‘writing my books’. Honestly. Quite often, I am planning fun days out with Tesco Clubcard tokens (it takes a lot longer than you’d think), emailing Lego about your missing magazine, ordering presents for your birthday or booking flights to see your cousins at Christmas. OK. Oh, and I love you very much.
Dear Royal Baby,
Where ARE you, for crying out loud?
Dear Robert Galbraith,
Please can you decide whether you want to be in or out so I can actually finish typing a page without having to get up to open the kitchen door.
You keep distracting me. Stop it. Stop it now. No. I mean it. Stop.
Dear neighbour’s dog,
Please stop doing that freaky thing when you sound like a 747 taking off. It concerns me greatly.
I didn’t mean it. Please come back. Please be my friend.
Dear ‘Book Three’,
It will all start to make sense soon. I promise.
I have tonic and I’m not afraid to use it.
Please stop scowling at me. I promise I will clean you very, very soon. Possibly in September.
Yes, you can a) dress up, b) get an ice lolly, c) take your socks off, d) change your top, e) have a cookie, f) call on your friends. No, you cannot watch any more cartoons.
Please keep your hat on. It really, really suits you and makes me very happy.
Thank you. Thank you very, very much.