You can't put your toffees in a headless man; the Festival of Romance; no need to panic but it's almost Christmas.

 Several things have been lurching like thought-zombies to the forefront of my consciousness today, and I couldn't choose just one from the crowd of Walking Dead Ideas to lay before you in all its rotting gorgeosity, so I thought I'd just splurge.  Yes, today is to be a day of splurge-blogging, whereby I shall just splat all those ideas and thoughts into this blog and let you pick amid the eyeballs and organs to find inspiration and/or dinner, depending on how you are feeling today.

Firstly: during our RNA Chapter Meeting (I still love saying that. It makes me sound a bit Hell's Angel I always think. Maybe I could get a Romantic Comedy Novelists' jacket, all black leather with 'Born to Pun' on the back in studs) we were discussing the trend for the headless torso covers, by way of objectification of women.  I am not in favour of headless torsos, I should say, because I like my men with eyes. I'd worry about my readers fantasising about my heroes not having tops to their heads, and being able to use them as convenient containers for things like toffees. Containers with amazing (and somewhat unlikely) abdominal formations, admittedly, but still.  Men are people too, they are not something in which to put your left-over sweeties.

This sort of thing is what I mean.  I make no judgements about the book behind the cover, but this cover just screams to me of a hinged forehead concealing a conveniently large interior into which to place cotton buds or sherbet lemons.  Incidentally, this picture came from here, a place where no cover is safe from ridicule, and quite rightly so.  Is it just me, or does it look as though his torso is trying to crawl up his body to a place of safety between his shoulderblades?

Also, I have finally...FINALLY, made arrangements to attend the Festival of Romance! I always intended to go but, you know, food and everything, but I WILL BE THERE! In Bedford! Oh, I'm not doing anything, obviously, just walking around and seeing things, but I do get to go to the Gala Dinner thingie, which means I'd better start canvassing all my friends of a similar size in order to borrow a frock and shoes. But I am looking forward to it, and also seeing lots of my writing friends and chatting to them, so, it's a good thing.

Another Thing, there are only 10 useable days left in October, this means that Christmas is looming ever closer, like a big cloud of panic, wrapped in bacon. However, I always love Christmas because it's one of the few days in the year when I actually know what we're having for dinner and don't have to rake around in the depths of the freezer for something which will, when defrosted, turn out to be the owl pellets left over from last term.  Also my birthday is in November, which is a day on which nobody is allowed to throw things at me or poke me with sticks, so it's almost like having a holiday really! Isn't it?

I think I'd better go and write another book now...