Morris dancing. Earlier today.
Someone (probably the notoriously acerbic conductor Sir Thomas Beecham) said that one should try anything except incest and morris dancing. The latter was certainly in evidence in Norwich earlier today (please, no jokes about what’s Normal for Norfolk), in the precincts of which fine city could be found, simultaneously, all at once, together and at the same time — a festival of morris dancing; a cavalcade of football fans (coming to see the Canaries beat Stoke City 1-0 at home) and people dressed up to see a production of the Rocky Horror Show. Honestly, you couldn’t get anything more bizarre, even in a Tom Sharpe novel. Amid all the colourful costumes I found copies of my book at the local branch of Waterstones, and in the book department of Norwich’s department store, Jarrolds. This is the first time I have ever found my book on the shelves of the aforementioned emporia. This is probably not a good thing. A few months ago a salesperson at Waterstones said that my book sold out almost as soon as they got any copies in to sell, explaining why I never found any on display. Perhaps, then, interest is beginning to wane. But fear not! I shall be chatting about it at the next Norwich Science Festival, in February 2024, by which time I shall have submitted the manuscript for my next book. And development for an illustrated, children’s version of A (Very) Short History of Life on Earth will be well advanced.
