Whitby Goth Weekend - Panda, a corset, dusting and being 'An Entourage'.

Oh, veritably have I been jet-setting this past week!  Well, no, there were no actual jets involved, mostly cars and legs, and it wasn't so much set as a bit...well, wobbly; definitely one stage up from liquid but not quite as firm as one would like one's set to be, so...all right, not so much jet-setting as leg-wobbling then.  But I have most definitely been it.  For this week I have been signing books all over the place.  Mostly just inside the front cover, it has to be admitted, but also in York, Leeds, Scarborough and, particularly noteably, at the Goth Weekend in Whitby.

Also my mother came to criticise the curtains and make noises at the cats and this always distracts me from the process of writing.  She hasn't been up to visit us here in the wilds of Yorkshire for a couple of years, so you can only imagine the lengths I had to go to to cover up the dirt before she arrived.  I DUSTED, people!  And you know that dust and I have a slightly symbiotic relationship, and I have, on occasion, used to it make notes on an upcoming work in progress, so the cleaning and clearing up that this maternal visit initiated was like ridding myself of old friends. Anyway.  It accounts for my somewhat lackadaisical appearance on the Internet recently.

But!  And it is a big but, particularly in these trousers... I have delightful pictures to show you!  Here, look, this is one of them...

This is me, engothulated and about to sign some copies of Vampire State of Mind, in Whitby Bookshop.  It was absolutely lovely, so many lovely people in such beautiful costumes, and me in a tight corset and three inch heels.  I could neither breathe nor walk, I was like a typical Victorian Miss.  For a while I thought about having consumption just to complete the picture, but since I couldn't cough either this would merely have consisted of me holding a hanky in front of my face, and passers by may have thought this was a ploy to prevent my make-up from scaring the horses.  So I didn't.  I don't know why it says Vintage Gifts behind me.  I am neither.

Here I am, sitting down, to my great relief.  Try not to be distracted by my heaving bosoms, when you are laced into a corset your bosoms are the least of your worries, even if, it transpires, you can balance a pint on them.  I am accompanied in this picture by Panda - a gentlemanly specimen of his species, who belongs to Paul and Jeremy and who kindly posed with me to prevent me from looking quite so Billy No-Mates.  Paul was there to read from some of his 'Brenda and Effie' novels later in the day, which I also attended and which was lovely, and I actually got to be part of his entourage - well, we walked from the pub to the bookshop together and I guess that qualifies as entouraging - which is something else I've never done before!  Yey!  Although I do have to add that we were actually in the pub beforehand, talking about forebodings, which is not quite as rock and roll, although I did rock and roll considerably whilst walking over cobbles in three inch heels, and the wine came as something of a relief.

And now, to allow your eyes to stop rotating in their sockets at the sight of me in a corset, with a panda, here is a delightful photograph of the bridlepath outside my house, in the mist.  Look on it as a holiday for your brain...

And try not to dwell on the thought of me in a corset, it's not good for you.