Thursday, 9 August 2012

Day 22 and counting

Well it's 22 days until the launch of The Blood Of Crows. It was the first day of many, many events. It was the day Bolt did the double. It was also the first time I have set eyes on the new book. Counts today in Bridget Jones style? Latte 3, coke 0, screaming kids 5 After quiet and long dog walk accompanied by Henning Mankell (on Ipod not personally though I think Emily and Jussi might get on well), met HWMBI on train for Edinburgh. Train of hell, needed latte to get through. Waverley station is chaos, Edinburgh is Chaos, Princess gardens were warm and beautiful... but chaos. Why do kids run away from parents? Dogs come back when their name is called, so why not kids. Maybe if I was called Murray Sweetheart ( hyphenated ) and forced to wear a kilt I'd do a bloody runner too. Most ridiculous was a Samoyed being taken for draggies... in the middle of Edinburgh in the festival in searing heat. Got to gig, climbed over the copies of 50 Shades of mince at the front door of Blackwells to the proper books. There was a fine crowd to hear Hazel McHaffie talking about her book, How far would you go to Save Sebastian? It was a good talk but all I could think of were the screaming kids on the train, if one of them had been Sebastian, I wouldn't have gone very far at all. Anne Connolly then read from her beautiful new poetry collection Love-in-the-Mist and added a few funny poems ( the best sort to a philistine like me. My favourite poet is Spike Milligan!). Jennie Erdal then talked about translation and philosophy in The Missing Shade of Blue. HWMBI has all kinds of degrees in the stuff (Philosophy - not the shade of blue!) started wittering on about John Stuart Mill and David Hume on the train home, but I couldn't hear him due to very noisy Italian teenagers squawking). Ewan Morrison was supposed to be there doing a piece called Close Your Eyes and hear Tales from the Mall or indeed close your eyes and you'll miss him as it turned out. Then there was me- billed as Caro Ramsay: Gritty Glaswegian Crime fiction. It was a good event, varied. I usually feel like the poor intellectual cousin at these things, probably because crime writing is still viewed as being something inferior than 'Literature.' Just had a think, if 50 shades of mince is literature... there is no hope! Did speak a bit about The Killer Cookbook, that seemed to go down well. Sold a few books. Overall, very well received and asked to do another gig which means I didn't bore anybody to death. Emails out 15. Emails in 85. Must do better tomorrow. On way home small screaming child had on a bib that said Mr Noisey. I suppose that shows some degree of self awareness. HWMBI had a philosophical comment about self awareness but it was in Latin and it was very late and my brain switched off. Had a cup of tea watching young ladies kick each other in the head and then punch each other. That was the Olympics. Not a thursday night at Glasgow central. Caro

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