For a smallish lump of squashed, sliced, graffitied tree, this beautiful-looking thing causes one of the weirdest feelings. Or even twelve of them at the same time: chufties, relief, embarrassment, hope, fear, pride, anxiety, awkwardness, gratefulness, nakedness, bewilderment, gratitude.
To be honest I’m still waiting for Jeremy Beadle to bob over and show me where all the hidden cameras are. But if he doesn’t show up, there will be wine. So come and help me launch the bugger at Waterstones Deansgate, Manchester on 16th May, or Daunt Books Holland Park, London on 22nd May. I’ll be there, pretending as though I have a single clue what I’m doing.

Leave a comment