The Diary of a Debut | 19th to 25th February 2011

A birthday, a licence to kill, a funeral

Hopes and Doubts — The Diary of a Debut

My first book, Before I Go to Sleep, first came out in April 2011. I’d completely forgotten that in the January of that year I started keeping a journal to chronicle things as they happened.

My entries were sporadic, and some intensely personal. I’ve tried to edit it as little as possible, however.

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19th February 2011

My party!

[…]

[…] also showed [my agent] Grindr and she was apparently horrified to see me on there. I’d have happily told her the truth, but hey said I’d registered out of interest and didn’t know how to unregister.

So she probably now thinks I’m stupid as well as a slut.

Tuesday 22nd February

A busy day working, trying to bully Nine Lives into some kind of shape I’m happy with. The dull ache I’ve been experiencing in my arms (worse on the right) was feeling worse, and in one rush I realised it’s tennis elbow. ‘Can you get that from using a keyboard?’ I thought, and of course the answer is ‘yes’. And for some it gets so bad they can no longer write, so that was pretty sobering.

In the evening was another Scratch’n’Sniff, this one dealing with scent and masculinity. Showed a 007-infuenced ad for an eau de cologne from the seventies, the strapline of which was ‘Licensed to kill... women.’ Quite sick, really.

Enjoyed the evening but I was determined not to eat or drink too much as I really want to lose at least a bit of weight in time for the CP. N and I also had a bit of a row […] Later we talked, and I realised I wasn’t being entirely fair, and often I work these things up in my head, particularly when I’m stressed, which I am most of the time at the moment because of the weight of expectation on Nine Lives.

Nice end to the evening when we got home though -we ate cheese.

25th February 2011

Today was [my great-uncle’s] funeral. An odd day. He died on February 12th, but had been very ill for a number of years. I feel embarrassed to see that i didn’t even note down the fact that he’d passed away on the day my mum told me, but that’s not because I didn’t care.

Instead I think it’s because it felt,