I said no, no, no, no, no

More rain. MORE bloody RAIN. Honestly...

It's the start of the Edinburgh International Book Festival today. Usually Susie's along there doing events, meeting friends, hanging out, etc, but this year she's taking a break, she says. Actually it's because she's doing other things. "No, no, no. That won't be necessary. No no. I do have a life outside books and publishing," she said, yesterday, when I asked if she wanted me to iron anything for her to wear tonight for the EIBF Launch Party. "Besides, one cannot be forever fluttering about being visible and interesting and witty for the amusement of others," she said, and gave a wee laugh (which I think was the kind that means 'Look, I don't drink, and I'm not with anyone, and it's always the same bunch of people looking over your shoulder to see if Will Self has arrived, so hanging around at these places is kind of un-fulfilling, frankly' but she never puts it like that, not out loud). So I put the crumpled black things back on the pile, and went back to reading my novel. Not 'my' novel, but that's another story. It was just a novel, about some bloke called Parker who blows up banks and stuff. Quite interesting. I often wonder what it would be like to live a life of crime. Would you get all kinds of weird compulsions and psychological side effects? It would surely change you as a person, anyway.

Right. Better go and look for my umbrella.