I am still reading Desmond Coy's autobiography, which is a lively and sometimes rather rude account of his life between the UK and Jamaica. He has a really good way with words: his visual descriptions are amazing and I am imagining the Jamaican mountains and 1960s Carnaby Street with equal colour and vitality. I am hoping to find a publisher for it.
Speaking of which, the paperback edition The Lost Women of Rock Music has been delayed until next year. If you were thinking of buying it, please could you order it? This would stop it from slipping to the back of the queue. Ironically, I had just agreed to do a reading in Letchworth in a bookshop after being asked on Friday at the Daintees gig, and was arranging to put a little piece about it in the cover artwork for The Chefs CD.
Work at the Universities is about to start again; we are rolling up our sleeves, spitting on our palms and rubbing our hands together.
I even did the ironing last night.