Reflections on a Good Day

Today was a good day...

I got up in the late morning to receive a  mail from Xcite Books telling me that they did not wish to publish my latest trouser tightening, knicker moistening work of utter filth that goes under the title of Good Times With Girls. This is my ever so courteous reply:

Thank you for taking the trouble to reply, but there was no need to have bothered. I waited two weeks, which I felt was quite long enough, and then  found another publisher. Good Times With Girls should hit the stands in September and I am sure that we will all enjoy watching its sales rack up, just as they continue to do for my earlier work.

 To my delight a secretary or something, answering to the name of Liz, took it upon herself to get my day off to a flying start with this pompous load of old wank:

It's standard author etiquette to inform a publisher if a book has been picked up while still under consideration elsewhere, and I hope you'll bear this in mind if you choose to submit to us again in future.

I think it is so wonderful when women climb on their high horses like that, so with a smile on my lips and a song in my heart I fired off my reply telling little Lizzie that: "Those may be your rules, but I play by my own. If you don't like them that is hardly my problem, is it darling?" 

Feeling like the dog's dick after that I went and had a shit, shower and shave and then decided to wander over to Skipton for afternoon tea. Why Skipton? Why not?

I called in at a bookshop and was amazed to see that the whole window was taken up with the 50 Shades books - in fact a fellow bought one whilst I was there. Chatting to the woman behind the counter they are selling like hot cakes, so I took the opportunity to introduce myself and tell her all about A Spanking Good Life, which is a far better offering than 50 Shades, if only because it is not fiction. That and it is well written to boot...

From there I went and had a large latte, two scones, butter, jam and clotted cream all the the very reasonable price of £3.50. I explained to the three women sat at the next table that anorexia can creep up on any of us so its best to slap the cream on top of the buttered, jammy scone and keep it at bay. I went on to point out that people don't go to the gym in my area, they come and jog around me instead.

Then my cup of joy overflowed when one of the women told me that she remembered me from the bookshop and asked if it was true what I had said there? Indeed it was, said avuncular old Uncle Nick, and we chatted about writing, erotica, and the need for the smack of firm government... Then I gave out my business card like there was going to be no tomorrow:

Will any of them get in touch? We shall see, but now you know why today was a good day!