Just back from a weekend at Winchester where I met up with loads of other writers and we did writerly things (bitch about the other writers and drink and eat too much, basically).
It was great, and reinforced why I'm so lucky to be where I am.
Met up with my glamorous Greenhouse brother from another mother, Jon Mayhew (who is much taller in real life than I'd expected) and we hung out a lot, which was both charming and a bit like the first day at a new school.
I signed my first autograph, which was strange, but (lets be honest) pretty cool.
The teachers there were brilliant. Lee Weatherley has helped make me the writer I am (so it's her fault if it all goes pear-shaped) with extraordinary advice from Cornerstones and this w/e. Tim Bowler was a total inspiration and Alison gave me a chance to practise what it might be like delivering a talk at a school visit. Quite terrifying.
And Candy, I've bought it, as advised. Thanks.
Saturday evening's entertainment was Barry Cunningham, the man who published Harry Potter and (more importantly) was Fat Puffin (for those who remember Puffin Club from the 1970's, which, incidently, is being relaunched).
Met lots of great people and read some amazing work which kinda gave me the willies. There's a lot of excellent writing out there and all of it deserves to be published. Why it's not is a mystery to be solved by wiser men than me.