Regarding Henry

Six copies of my new novel, The Kitty Killer Cult, arrived in the mail yesterday. Henry the postie had stuffed them into the mailbox so tightly that I had to wiggle, wrench, then lift them out.

Author’s copies of a book don't arrive all that often, so their appearance is always worth noting. In my dim, distant pre-published days, my yardstick was the scene from Back to the Future where George McFly’s box of books arrive hot off the printing presses. I used to dream that would happen to me one day. It never quite turned out like that – George’s box hasn’t been sat on and bent out of shape by the mailman – but this is real life, not Hollywood, after all. I need to keep reminding myself of that.

Anyway, the books are here, all the pages are in the right order and the cover looks suitably classy. What more could I ask for?