We've moved! My new site is www.wcoles.com!

Dear Blog-readers - this, I'm afraid, is probably going to be my last posting on the blogger website.

Not that blogger hasn't been great for me, and at one stage I guess we did have a pretty special relationship. But you know over the last few weeks I've sort of felt that we've been drifting apart and then last night we had a bit of a chat and we just decided that we needed some time apart. I mean, not that it's irrevocable or anything like that, and we may well one day get back together again, but at the moment it just seems right for us to have a bit of a breather ... A cool-off period. A time to reflect on all the great blogs that we once carved out, and to weigh up - calmly, rationally - whether there's a future for us together.

Anyway! Enough of that piffle!

Jamie at Terinea has done me up a BRILLIANT new website, which is going to blow fusty old blogger out of the water! You can even buy the book there! That's how high-tech we are!

It's at: www.wcoles.com. Just click on the title at the top and you should be there! Billx

Me and the monkey

There are some disadvantages to being as low-tech as me - in that I have not got the faintest clue how to get a video onto this posting. Gave it a shot and got fed up.
So instead of that, I will merely provide you with the link. Thus:

http://video.travelmail.co.uk/?VideoID=eurodisney_edit_320x240

It's vomit-inducing stuff of the family at Eurodisney. Why do I put it on - well, it may not be much, but I tell you that pix of the kids are going to be a sight more appetising than pix of me.

To business: Now that we are on the very eve of the Clavier launch day, the phones have just been ringing - ringing! - off the hook as newspapers get wind of this EXTRAORDINARY story that is about to break.

Yesterday it was the turn of the Edinburgh Evening News, the local paper, and I had 30 minutes on the phone with affable Rosalind as I told her about my merry days at Eton and the Soaraway.

And, for the first time, I made a new connection. For I realised there is a genuine link between The Sun and Eton - in that, if you mention that you have served time at either place, there tends to be a collective raise of the hackles. People immediately start to get sniffy.

I also had the Evening News photographer over, along with a trainee, Lewis, who was learning the ropes.

Now one of the main things about being a monkey (journo technical term) is that you have to butter people up. You've got to get the people on side before you start taking their pictures.

Which means, obviously, that you've got to look the part. And above all dress inoffensively.

I didn't have the heart to tell Lewis that a two-inch bolt through the top of his ear would probably not go down well on Fleet Street.

Windsors - 200 words

Dear blog-readers - this is not part of the blog. This is in fact a piece of live copy. I leave it here for your delectation ... maybe you've never seen a piece of genuine hackery before. Basically the Express' e-mail system had gone down, and I'd had to file 200 more words on a tasty little piece about two of my favourite subjects: The Duchess of Windsor and Adolf Hitler. The only way to get it to them was to leave it on the blog.


Fergus - sorry that the story needed re-working. Here's 200 more words. Do call if there are any problems. Bill


The Windsors’ tour of Germany raised many eyebrows - not least in America, where the New York Times reported: “The Duke’s decision to see for himself the Third Reich’s industries and social institutions and his gestures and remarks during the last two weeks have demonstrated adequately that the abdication did indeed rob Germany of a firm friend, if not indeed a devoted admirer, on the British throne.”
But one of the more bizarre twists of the German tour was that Simpson, before she became the Duchess, had slept with Hitler’s foreign minister, Joachim von Ribbentrop, on 17 occasions.
This extraordinary detail, courtesy of a huge cache of files which were drawn up by concerned bureau chiefs at the FBI, tellingly reveals how Simpson would bed any man with power and influence. Her tally of bedroom conquests was probably at least up there with that of the Duke’s.
The affair began when von Ribbentrop - a former Champagne salesman - was sent to London as German ambassador in 1936 to try and broker a peace deal. In this he ultimately failed - though as a dubious second best, he did succeed in seducing the Prince of Wales’ paramour. ENDS

My first reviews ...

Just seen the first two reviews of the book - online reviews, which are not quite as heavyweight as newspaper reviews, but interesting nonetheless, as these were the first pukka evaluations of the Well-Tempered Clavier from people who were not in the Coles cheer-leader team.

You can imagine how I was rubbing my hands with glee at the prospect of this Niagara - this orgasm - of genuine praise that was about to be showered on me.

First up: Kimbofo. http://kimbofo.typepad.com/readingmatters/2007/10/the-well-temper.html#more/

I didn't like the way things were going when Kimbo said that you had to "wade" through half the book before you got to the sex scenes. Wade? Wade??? What sort of word is that?

Then Kimbo moves on to "a lot of repetition", and Coles' "slightly grating narrative style", before coming up with this killer line at the end: "It won't shatter your world, although it will brighten up a rainy day or, as in my case, a long-haul flight."

Harr-bloody-rumph! I mean I know that I've dished it out quite a few times over the years - all right, many, many times - but boy was I smarting. Kimbo only gave it three measly stars as well.

Anyway, after I'd managed to put a lid on my seething rage - ("wade"??? "slightly grating"??) - I did see that Kimbo did actually make one very good point ... "There is a lot of repetition ... which could easily be sorted out with a little judicious editing."

Exactly! Judicious editing! As opposed to the highly injudicious editing of Tom, the bittersweet publisher. I blame him entirely.

Oh yes, but there was one other review: Altogether nicer, from a woman with quite palpable taste, class, style and general intellectual rigour.

http://randomjottings.typepad.com/random_jottings_of_an_ope/

She laid it on with a trowel (which, I tell you, is just how first-time authors like it). Some of her tastier lines: "I really enjoyed this book and ... I shall be keeping a close eye out in future for more from William Coles ..."

Yes indeed - my glistering literary future.

Though I'm afraid the "follow-up" books are more than likely to be a little less polished than the Clavier - but that's because I'm going to be resuscitating at least three of the unpublished turkeys that are still festering in my back cupboard.

Questions answered

A picture of wee Geordie ... but who could that be in the background?

Well he's a very well known Disney character; Geordie fell in love with him; and he's got a penchant for crocodiles ... but no more clues.

I spent two hours last night filling out Waterstones' author questionnaire - with about 20 probing questions which try to find out what it is that makes me tick.

A lot of these questions had never, ever occurred to me before. Took some time to mull over. "What book would you never have on your book-shelves?"

Very nasty question - had to think on it for some time. Before - obviously - ducking it altogether. As yet, I can't imagine a single book, not even Katie Price's puke-inducing "Crystal", which I would not have on my shelves.

Next interesting question: "Which fictional character would you most like to meet?" Spent ages on this one. Maybe Raffles; or Flashman; or Sherlock Holmes; or Rumpole (heroic boozer); or Hornblower (bit starchy though).

But in the end I plumped for the one of the biggest knaves of them all: Old Etonian, all-round cad and bounder, Captain James Hook.

One last thought-provoking question: "What book would you give to a friend?" Well it all depends on the friend, doesn't it?

I recently gave Maguire a book, "Countryman's Cooking" by W.Fowler - over 50 years old and utterly hilarious. You particularly want to check out his sublime recipe for cooking a cormorant.

But would I give Fowler's chirpy cook-book to my wife - or indeed to any woman? Inadvisable ... not to mention dangerous ...

The problem with assumptions ...

Yes - since I had to go to Eurodisney, I thought I might as well treat you to a pic of my elder son with Minnie.

Why is it, by the way, that the Disney villains are always FAR more preferable to the heroes.

You can keep your Minnie and your Mickey and your mealy-mouthed Robin Hood. I'd take Captain Hook, the wicked stepmother and Prince John - any time.

Well it seems that the Clavier book is not even yet out, and ALREADY the errors are cropping up. By the next edition, it's going to need a wholesale re-write (by which stage, I will also have been able to rid myself of the worst excesses of Tom, the bittersweet publisher).

Latest cock-up - and I guess there are going to be a dozen of 'em - comes over my blithe assumption that Eton's masters drink tea when they all meet up at 11am. Nothing could be further from the truth. Apparently, it's all very starchy and there's not a drink to be had. Oooops!

That's what happens when you start assuming things. One of my old bosses on The Sun, Neil Wallis, would go stark, staring mad if you used the word "assumed".

Instead, cunning reptiles like me would say that we had "deduced", or even "inferred" the facts which had led to the latest libel writ.

But never assume.

As soon as Neil heard the word, he'd start jumping up and down like a (slightly smaller) version of Rumpelstiltskin. He made my ex-wife Anna sound like a virginal nun. All true, I promise you.

Havering on

Apologies for the lack of tasty gems these past four days - got waylaid by Eurodisney. Two days travelling there and back, and one day at the show itself.
You will be able to read my full match report in the Mail this week, probably Wednesday.
However, just between you and me, it's got to be a pretty special holiday if it's going to involve such a vast amount of travelling.
I'm now beginning to understand why my dad did not care to take his two boys on any journey that was over an hour long.

Havering: A very fine term. Scottish, you know, means to blither on witlessly with no purpose and no end in sight.
Now I met the good burghers of Havering on Wednesday night - and I can tell you I was pretty pumped. Energised. Like Frank Bruno going into the ring for the fight of his life.
Had spent all afternoon prepping up, writing up the script in full.
And then I arrived 30 minutes before the off. Had a half-pint to steady myself (but not too much to get ratted), and I was in. Binned my notes, and started telling them weird stories about my life.
I don't know but ... I think they liked it. (I had adopted Tom the publisher's mantra - pick out the two most glam women in the audience and fix your beady eyes on them. Thanks Tom - you Casanova, you)
Well I havered on, and delighted in landing Tom the Casanova in the mire over his wretched additions of that vomit-making word "bitter-sweet".
And then at the end. Any questions?
One woman pipes up and says, "You should be on Have I got News For You!"
Ahh me. Balm to my ears

The randy rascal himself

Now, naturally, being such sophisticated blog-readers, I'm sure you don't fritter away your time reading the Red-tops - least of all some obstreperous, bolshy paper like my old tabloid, The Sun.

However, it is rather uplifting to see that - just occasionally - I can call in the odd favour.

Little item in today's Soaraway. Topping their "Whip" column.

And you never know ... it might, just possibly, lead to something:

"Former Eton boy William Coles has written a novel about a torrid affair between a 17-year-old pupil and his 23-year-old female piano teacher at his old school.

"The former Sun Royal reporter says the incident is based on a "true story" - though he wasn't the randy rascal himself. [Randy rascal indeed! Are they stuck in the 1950s?]

"However, one classmate was Tory MP "Bonking Boris" Johnson and Princess Di's brother Earl Spencer - not noted as a puritan - was in the same year.

"Others looking for clues in the book, The Well-Tempered Clavier, will doubtless be Tory leader Dave Cameron, who was two years below the author.

"Now who in this titivating trio can tinkle the ivories?"

My bittersweet publisher

A few weeks back, Tom the publisher asked me what my favourite word was. I replied something like, "Sumptuous" - and then, naturally, asked him the same question.

"I don't know why," he said. "But I just love the word, "bitter-sweet"."

It's an all right word, I suppose. Definitely a bit cheesey, a bit flowery.

Though most definitely not a word I have ever used. EVER.

I shrugged my shoulders and thought no more of it.

Until last night.

Last night, I was just deciding which reading to give at the Havering book fest, and I was going through The Well-Tempered Clavier in detail for the first time - and there it was: "Bittersweet memories".

Weird. I couldn't remember writing that.

I studied the text more carefully - and there it was again. And again. Bitter-sweet love. Bitter-sweet relationship.

It gradually dawned on my that somebody had been monkeying with the final draft.

I could feel my gorge beginning to rise.

Finally, finally, I got to the end of the book - and breathed a sigh of relief that at least Tom the publisher had had the decency not to tinker with the last page.

And then I turned the book over and read the back-page blurb.

Its final paragraph?

"Twenty-five years on, Kim recalls that heady summer and how their fledgling relationship was so brutally snuffed out - finished off by his enemies, by the constraints of Eton, and by his own withering jealousy. The Well-Tempered Clavier is the bittersweet story of a life-changing love."

GAAAAAAAAH!

Havering on

I am positively incapable of doing anything until the very last minute.

And so it is that although I have had more than a month to prepare for my first book talk at Havering, I have done precisely nothing about it.

So, with just the correct degree of buttock-clenching tension, I set to work this afternoon. Drafted out a few notes. Decided on the bits of the book that do justice to the true beauty of The Well-Tempered Clavier.

And then Maguire calls.

"What are you doing?" he asks. "Where the hell are you anyway?"

"I'm in a pub," I said. "I'm giving a talk in Havering library tomorrow."

"Havering?" he says. "HAVERING? You're giving your first book talk in Havering? How very appropriate!"

"Why the hell's it appropriate to be talking in Havering? Where is Havering anyway?"

"Well, Mr Coles," he said. "Havering, as any true Scot could tell you, means to blather on witlessly and endlessly and to no purpose."

"Really?"

"Yes! To haver - to just keep blethering on about absolute crap."

"Wow!" I said. "That IS appropriate!"

Almond-skinned beauties

A number of have friends have inquired why I chose to illustrate my last posting about Maguire with a picture of a rather wizened grey monkey.

I can assure you, however, that it was NOT a monkey. This is genuinely what Maguire looks like.

But a very understandable mistake to make, nonetheless. No apology required.

This picture though is of a much more handsome chap altogether - Jamie, from Terinea, who is doing up my website. He is the techno-guy.

Doing a great job of it. You'll just love the new-look blog, I know you will. And he's even dug up a number of tasty pictures to daub around the periphery of the blog. You know the sort of thing - stuff that might be pertinent to The Well-Tempered Clavier book like pictures of Bach, sheet-music, et cetera ...

"And I've got a picture of a really gorgeous Asian girl!" trilled Jamie. "Lovely almond-skin. Just gorgeous. She'll be perfect!"

"Ahh," I said, temporizing a little. "Interesting. Tell me, Jamie, why do we want a picture of a gorgeous Asian girl on this web site?"

"Well I thought this guy, the hero of the book, was having a fling with an Indian bird ..."

"What?" I said. "What! Have you gone totally insane? She is not some Indian bird, no! Her name happens to be INDIA."

He was like a dog with a bone on this one. "So she doesn't have almond-skin?"

"No, No, and for the last time NO!" I said. "Her name is India, but she is totally caucasian. Do you think that everyone called Paris wears a beret and onions round their neck?"

Well, honestly ...

The half-wit ...

You know how in your life, you're sometimes lucky enough to meet one of the good guys; one of the troupers - one of the guys, who, when the going gets tough, you just really know that they're going to be hanging in there for you.

Well I guess I might have a few mates like that.

Maguire though ...

Maguire is of a different category order altogether.

Maguire is 52, bald and ageless, and in 30 years time will look just exactly as he looks now - especially if he's dead.

Maguire has been an outstanding cheer-leader in The Well-Tempered Clavier project. Came up with the stunt for the video; ordered me to delete this initial blog in its entirety because it was "a complete and utter pile of shit"; and is also my chief running-mate.

So, as you may be able to understand, with a pal like that, I was pretty keen to give him one of the first copies of the book - which I did this morning. Wrote him a nice little note too.

He took it. And then what he did next was so touching, so poignant, that I don't think I'll ever forget it.

Because, more than anything, it showed just how much Maguire had got into the very spirit of the book ...

"Thanks very much, Bill," he said, riffling through the pages.

A minute later, he read me out loud the whole of the very last sentence of the book.

WHAT AN EFFING HALF-WIT!

Such are the friends that I am blessed to have.

Gutted in the extreme

Bizarre news from one of my deranged relatives.

He took great delight in telling me all about it too ...

Amongst many other things, I've been endeavouring to turn The Well-Tempered Clavier into a bestseller before it's even hit the book-shelves.

Now wouldn't that be tasty? Already move onto the second print run before the book's come out.

So naturally, along with sending out the Clavier promo video to my mates, I've been sending out the Amazon link, just so you can get your order in nice and early.

However ...

When you click onto the Amazon page, you see that down the bottom there is a little posting saying, "Other books looked at ..." These books, presumably, might be a little similar to my own.

Well ... the weird thing is that the book that everyone is taking a peek at after mine is by my ex-wife Anna Pasternak ...

I'm sure she would be gutted in the extreme to learn that the Clavier book is currently being bracketed in the same class as Daisy Dooley Does Divorce ...

You are invited!

Now it may just be down to this wretched on-off postal strike.

But I think that, much more likely, it's actually down on to my own natural indolence.

I have a slight problem, you see, with the invites for the Clavier launch.

Which is two weeks away.

And I still haven't got round to posting the invites. Haven't even got hold of the hard copies yet! EEEEEEKKKK!

So, just in case you might be interested in drinking cheap wine and buying a copy of The Well-Tempered Clavier, here are the details.

We've got an Edinburgh launch at Valvona and Crolla on Elm Row on Friday October 26, 6.30pm ...

And for those of you in Scotland who just can't get enough of all this headache-inducing alcohol, there will also be a launch at Foyles bookshop on Charing Cross Road, Tuesday October 30, 6.30pm. Consider yourself invited!

A saucy one.

Got my first look at The Well-Tempered Clavier yesterday - oh and very tasty it is too. One might almost call the cover "classical", were it not for the fact that the woman in the picture has her leg cocked up over the man's rump. Tom the publisher handed the book over in a restaurant, eyes expectantly on me. I think he was hoping that I was going to burst into tears. Hah! Does he seriously think I'm going to start piping my eye, just because I've got my first book in my hands? He genuinely expected me to go, "My first book! Waaah, waaah," before dissolving into a heap of drooling gunk on the floor. So I scanned the book through. A bizarre feeling I can tell you. And then I very nearly did start weeping - tears of ABSOLUTE RAGE. There'd already been one error in the dedication, which I'd just caught before Tom sent it off the the printers. The book is dedicated to "Margot, my wife". But somehow Tom had managed to leave the "T" off Margot's name. Excruciating. It doesn't bear thinking about. But one thing that DID slip through the net was that he'd manage to leave out a very important person from the Acknowledgements, Paul Hill from Nottingham. How he did it, I just have no idea. "Very sorry," said Tom the publisher. "Just blame me." "I BLOODY WELL WILL BLAME YOU!" I said. "That's OK," he replied. "Whenever I'm landed in the shit, I always blame the author." The bloody nerve of him ...

Cheery as hell

Well - I try to remain upbeat. Cheery. Even in the face of the most appalling adversity.

But this postal strike has been getting up my nose.

Next week, I'm not just sending out the launch invitations, but I'm sending out the books too; over 200 of the little darlings will be going out to the press and any big cheeses we can think of.

And then we discover that there's a week-long postal strike.

The books won't even get in the post till about next Friday - and when they do eventually arrive, there will be at the bottom of a sack-load of other brand new books.

But are we downhearted??

The cretin

I am, very occasio-nally, capable of having a good idea.

But, more often than not, they tend not to be quite fully thought through.

Did anyone mention the word cretinous?

So, just for the sake of example, I have been attempting to get this great book "The Well-Tempered Clavier" off the ground in any number of ways.

There's this blog for a kicker. Then there all the fliers I'm doing. And of course the video.

But yesterday, I had an absolute corker: Smilers.

Smilers are dinky little stamps that you can order from the Royal Mail. Just download your picture - in my case the Clavier cover - and put in your order for over 200 stamps. A few days later, along come your Smilers and all your scores of First Class stamps.

Quite, quite brilliant. Just perfect for all the launch invites that go out next week.

How was it though that I managed to get my order in on the very eve of a week-long postal strike?

Margot the editor

Ever eager to help get The Well-Tempered Clavier book off the ground, I've just ordered up 1,000 postcards.

These fliers will be handed out on the streets by my vagrant friends in Edinburgh.

Now I'm not saying that the design of the flier is great. But it does the job. It's got a picture of the book-cover on the front, and a bit of blurb on the back.

Certainly looked fine to me.

And then my wife, Margot the editor, took a look. And started making some suggestions.

I made a few notes. She made a few more suggestions.

I scribbled away.

And then Margot said, "Tell you what, why don't I take this off to Prontaprint? I'll tell them what they've got to do."

Fine by me.

Should have left it to her in the first place. If you're married to an editor, then you don't want to start coming up with some of your own home-made designs - because believe you me, you will invariably bodge it.

Having your cake and eating it

Occasionally you may read chunks of new books in the national news - and may wonder how on earth these no-name authors have got their bits of drivel to be serialised.

Well, I guess that if you were a first-time author and had a really, really outstanding book on your hands, then you might have a very slim chance of getting it serialised. Very.

If, alternatively, you have a few contacts on Fleet Street ... why, then you're talking.

So as it happens, it looks very much like a large chunk of The Well-Tempered Clavier is going to be appearing in the Sunday Express magazine. November 4, in case you wondered.

When I first mentioned this as be a possibility to Tom the publisher, he started getting very excited at the thought of charging them money.

"So let me get this right Tom," I said. "This paper is doing us a huge favour by running over 1,000 words of text in their mag, and now you want to charge 'em too?"

"Why not?" he said.

"I think it's a bit greedy," I said. "You're having your cake and eating it". (Hence the picture of Dexter - who is also partial to having his cake and eating it.)

"Sounds good to me," he said. Bless.

The Well-Tempered Clavier - The Movie

Not another picture of me - no. For a kicker, he's a lot uglier than me - and for seconds, he's a lot smaller.

But he does have a certain brooding edginess about him ...

This boy is, of course, Jamie Bell - star of Billy Elliot and, most recently, Hallam Foe.

And, although it might be a little bit previous - seeing as I haven't even sold the film rights to The Well-Tempered Clavier yet (nor have received even the slightest interest them) - it occurred to me that I ought to start sizing up a few prospective stars.

My bone-headed chum Tim Maguire suggested Daniel Radcliffe, fresh from slaughtering horses in Equus.

But Bell does it for me. That haunted, Byronesque quality; the pain, the tortured horror - all of the emotions, that is, that come from going to Eton.

Besides, if Jamie can master a bit of ballet-dancing, then learning a few Bach preludes should be an absolute snap ...

The Clavier Logo

I have been thinking long and hard about some sort of tasteful slogan that might sum up the Well-Tempered Clavier novel.

Something that manages to get across the fact that this is a heart-breaking love story, while also conveying my immense pride at having been to Eton in the first place.

I discussed the matter with Giles Pilbrow, who is my top gag-meister. He used to do Spitting Image and 2DTV.

He spent days mulling it over. But nothing was really quite right. And then, after a full week, he came up with the sublime line, "Eton 'n' Drinkin'".

"Not at all bad," I said. "But I still want more."

Back he went to the drawing-board. And finally, finally, this weekend he dreamt up a simple line that, for me, captures the very essence of an Eton education ... I've Been Eton.

I may even have it knocked up on a few T-shirts.

Scrumptious

In the Clavier book, there will be no picture of me - and no biography.

This will, says Tom the publisher, give me an air of mystery. Well it's possible. But I think that what he really means is that I'm not very photogenic. Too true.

My kids on the otherhand ... they are scrumptious. (Though I am aware that there isn't a dad in the land who wouldn't say that.)

But it's something to bear in mind for the second edition - and any other books, come to that. Big pictures of the kids ... and me lurking grey in the background, the eminence gris.

Lurking in the shadows

Just how many times to I have to tell Tom the publisher that the Clavier book is not my story?
He’s a like a dog with a bone on this one, and is terrified that some Eton piano teacher is suddenly going to come out swinging with a libel writ.
All I can do is repeat - over and over again - that although it’s a true story, it never happened to me.
No, it happened to a friend.
That’s not to say that I don’t share quite a few traits with the story’s 17-year-old hero. I was at Eton in 1982; I was pretty useless at playing the piano; and I was quite, quite desperate for a girlfriend.
But still - it was not my story.
Though how I wish it had been. It must be the ultimate fantasy of every horny teenage boy’s across the country: To be take

Let's go viral

I am not in any way, shape or form a tecchie.

I treat my lap-top like a sort of lightweight typewriter. I go on the net to file my stories. And that's about it.

Which might generally indicate that my chances of getting the Clavier book to go "viral" are slim.

However. I have one cracking trump card up my sleeve. The Edinburgh Coffee Morning. They're a bunch of people who meet up in Centotre in Edinburgh every Friday morning - and they know EVERYTHING about computers. My mind is befuddled after just ten minutes talking to them.

For some bizarre reason, a number of them have rather taken to the Clavier book. None of them have read a word of it, mind. But every week, they have a fistful more crazy ideas to turn it into a "Go". I shall dedicate my next love story to them.

Agent number one

Most authors have an agent. I guess if they're really smoking, they might have two.

I, bizarrely, have acquired THREE of 'em!

And this is me with good Jenny Brown, Scotland's premier agent, who is currently hawking various bits of my stuff around the place. (She's on www.jennybrownassociates.com)

Down South, I've got Darin, who managed to place the Clavier book. (He's on www.theinspiragroup.com)

And I've also got a children's agent, Lucy, who pitches my kids' stories. (And she's with Jenny.)

Anyway, these three agents are all just chomping at the bit for the Well-Tempered Clavier to be a hit - because then there will suddenly be an AVALANCHE of Coles books on the market.

I tell you - I won't have to write another word for the next decade!

Charming. Moving. Uplifting

If you're a first-time author, then somehow you have to try and dig up some quotes from a celebrity or a journalist to stick on the front cover.

These quotes can really help sell a book - and they are incredibly difficult to come by.

You plead, you grovel, you weasel, and at the end of it all, you might just get a quote from your local paper. If you're lucky.

Well I've been grovelling for well over a month, and, with just two days to go, I still didn't have a word to put on the front cover.

And then ... nothing short of an absolute miracle. I got the quote: "Charming. Moving. Uplifting. Why can't all love stories be like this?"

And from not a bad paper either ... The Wall Street Journal.

Is it really based on a true story?

Hi - I've got a book out in one month's time, and this blog is, I hope, going to help turn The Well-Tempered Clavier into a bestseller. It's a love story, the tale of a 17-year-old Eton schoolboy and his 23-year-old piano mistress.

And the picture you see here is of me as a teenager - the same age, as it happens, as Kim, who is the hero of my book.

Now this story is set in 1982, and it's very much based on a true story.

But my publisher Tom is very concerned to know whether it is in fact my story - or whether I've pinched it from somebody else.

How many times do I have to tell him? "Tom," I said last week when we were in the pub. "Read my lips! It's not my story! It is the story of a "Friend"." Was it helpful to add those quote marks to the word "Friend"?

A short promo video ...