It hasn’t been my week. The Children’s Book Council Awards shortlist came and went; I worked the sort of hours that made requisite sleep a (waking) dream; and something has died in our roof (oof!). And now, I wanted to post the draft cover of Famous!, but the uploading thingy is broken (or the format of the picture isn’t right: I haven’t quite worked out what’s caused what). Ah well. I can tell you that it features an appealing looking girl on a stage, surrounded by eager folks holding microphones up to her, and has very funky font for the title.
In other writing news, I am about halfway through the virginity novel, but I have no perspective on it yet, partly because the second character has taken on a life of her own, which was rather different to my idea of what she’d be like (like children, like characters). I have noticed, however, that the reaction of grown-ups when I tell them the basic premise (a group of year 12 girls who make a bet to lose their virginity before schoolies week) is inverse to that of teenagers, who wish that it was already out.
In news unrelated ro anything to speak of, I had the first of what is going to be a series of school friend 40ths on the weekend, which was an absolute hoot. Some people I hadn’t seen for 25 years, and it was amazing how much had happened to some of them, yet how fundamentally similar they are at 40 to what they were at 13. It also, perhaps bizarrely, reminded me why I write for teenagers: because teenagers really need to escape the whole she-bang that goes along with being a teenager, and escaping via the written word is the best, cheapest, and most reliable form of escape there is.