Category Archives: News

I always despise the return from a sunny holiday; my post-holiday blues tend to be virtually purple. And this time was worse than most. After a spectacular Easter break in Florida, I stepped off the plane in my flip-flops only to be battered in the face by rain and experience a rapid loss of feeling in all digits due to the cold.
The situation could’ve been catastrophic for my generally sturdy levels of good-humour … until I received some news from my fairy godmother (aka publicist) Emma Harrow that bowled me over. She emailed to say: ‘I take it you’ve heard you’re nominated for the Melissa Nathan Award?
Melissa Nathan was a hugely talented and brilliantly funny writer of romantic comedies. She died aged just 37 in 2006 and, in her honour, this literary award was established – to recognise novels that ‘combine the magical, life-enhancing elements of humour and love.’
Judges include Jo Brand, Joanna Trollope, Jessica Hynes, Sophie Kinsella, Morwenna Banks, Liza Tarbuck, Gaynor Allen (Head Book Buyer for Tesco), Andrew Cleaves, Managing Director National Express Coaches (the sponsors of the award) and Freya Wright (Book Buyer for Waitrose). So – quite a committee.
I’m up against some fantastic authors, some of whom I count as friends, including the irrepressible Milly Johnson, Jenny Colgan, Allie Spencer, Sarrah Manning and Jane Lovering.
We all find out the result at a glittering awards ceremony (they always glitter, don’t they?) on 12th June . . . so watch this space!

I absolutely love Little Black Dress – if you haven’t checked out their super-glam website – www.littleblackdress.co.uk – I suggest you do so fast. So I’m delighted to announce that I’ll be partnering up with them in a number of ways in the next few months, details of which I’ll post soon. In the meantime, they’ve launched a competition to toast our new friendship and are giving away ten signed copies of All The Single Ladies. You can enter HERE. Good luck!

LIKE many teenagers, I was what you might call feisty, in the same way you might call a rampaging Rottweiler spirited.
If anyone had predicted that being a woman would ever stop me from doing something in life, I’d have quoted the Female Eunuch at them until their ears bled.
Even as an adult – after the hormonal mayhem of adolescence fizzled out – I’ll still happily call myself a feminist and will take on anyone around the dinner table on subjects ranging from pay inequality to Nuts magazine.
But there’s one step I won’t take: ask a man to marry me.
As 2012 is a leap year, today – February 29 – is traditionally when women do just that, turning on its head the conventional course of events.
It’s a custom that’s been in place for centuries, one supposedly made law in 1288 by Queen Margaret of Scotland, who in many ways sounds like my kind of gal: she ordered that if the proposal was refused, a fine would be levied – of a silk gown.
Trouble is, no dress is worth it as far as I’m concerned – not silk, not lace, not haute couture Valentino embellished with hand-spun gold thread.
It’s a standpoint I made plain to my boyfriend, lest he cleared his diary today and put his mum on standby for some big news.
We’ve been together for almost a year and are madly, possibly sickeningly, in love.
While I wouldn’t have a single sleepless night if my ring finger remained unadorned forever, I’ve no doubt I would be the happiest woman alive if he asked me to marry him.
But would I pop the question myself? Not a chance.
Which you might find odd for someone with a keen sense of empowerment, who respects every woman’s right to make her own choices and grapple with the not-always-forthcoming hand of fate.
It’s not as if there is a shortage of precedence: even Queen Victoria proposed to Prince Albert in 1839 (though admittedly because he was of a lower social standing, not because he’d failed to notice she’d left the Boodles catalogue lying around).
And a massive part of me admires anyone with enough bloody-minded backbone to renounce the old-fashioned way of doing things.
Despite all that, I know this much: Even in the twenty-first century, if a man REALLY wants to marry you, in most cases, he will ask.
He will not squeeze your hand meaningfully at friends’ weddings, wistfully hoping you get the message.
He will not walk slowly past jewelry shop windows, optimistic that you’ll take the hint.
He will not snuggle up in front of Wedding Crashers on DVD and whisper: ‘I read a survey today that said marriage makes couples have more sex.’
He will simply ask.
Whether we like it or not – no matter how enlightened they are, or how zealously they do the washing up – most men still think of proposing marriage as their job.
Nine out of ten proposals continue to be made by men. A vox pop of my male friends made it clear that most wouldn’t thank you for doing it for them – one said they’d feel ‘robbed of a defining moment in life’ and another that it would ‘steal their thunder’.
And, although only the hardest of hearts could fail to be moved by the wonderful Sex And The City character Miranda asking for Steve’s hand in marriage, I won’t be following suit.
Because the fact that most men still relish the idea of proposing – when the right woman comes along – would leave me with one, inexorable question (even if he said yes).
Why had he never felt sufficiently strongly about me to do it himself?
As the statistics bear out, marriage can be tough enough as it is without leaping into it with someone who isn’t 100% sold on the idea.
Lukewarm is no good. Indifferent just won’t cut it. A marriage needs to begin with your man so in love that he can’t bear the thought of you slipping through his fingers.
Now, I know there will be men whose reaction will be: Hang on a minute . . . you can’t have things all your way! If you want equality, you have to roll up your sleeves and get stuck into the hard work too – and that includes proposing.
Except, equality never meant having to do everything ourselves. If that was the case, there would be no such thing as Kwik Fit Fitters.
Moreover, feminism was never supposed to ruin anyone’s fun – or deny us the heart-stopping pleasure of being on the receiving end of a proposal, something women have enjoyed since the day someone came up with the idea of marriage itself.
If you’ve ever watched Ryan O’Neal’s blazing-eyed proposal to Ali McGraw in Love Story, or read Mr Darcy declaring to Elizabeth Bennett ‘how ardently I admire and love you’, this must surely resonate.
I know some might think I’m simply not brave enough, or not as liberated as I think. Surely – some will argue – if your man is proving as responsive to hints as a house brick, there’s nothing wrong with taking the bull by the horns yourself.
But this is not what the hard-fought battles of feminism were about. This is a mere distraction from the real issues: domestic violence, sexism in the workplace, pornography, misogyny – that unpleasant list that still leaves us plenty with which to concern ourselves.
We never fought for the right to not be swept off our feet by men we love.
We never fought for the right not to have a man make the ultimate declaration of his respect and affection.
And we certainly never fought to remove any effort on a man’s part when it comes to committing to one another. Unless I’ve got it completely wrong, feminism isn’t there to add to our already burgeoning to-do lists. It’s on our side, remember?
As with anything in life, there are of course exceptions. A friend’s mum proposed to her dad because she didn’t want to ‘live in sin’ – and 38 years later, they’re still together.
It also strikes me that, if you’ve turned a man down once, you could hardly expect him to keep coming back for punishment. In that case, you’d better start rehearsing your speech.
But for my part, I won’t be joining in today, even if my teenaged self would have been appalled. Although perhaps she’d be too busy rolling her eyes and dying her hair a ravishing shade of industrial tarmac to worry about it.
If a proposal is ever on the cards between my boyfriend and I, it’ll be him who makes it. I think if most of us are entirely honest with ourselves, that’s the way we’d prefer it.

If you’re anything like me, it’s never easy finding something both original and just plain lovely for your mum on Mother’s Day. Well, I may have the perfect solution . . . if you can get to Southport on 3rd March anyway. I’ll be in Waterstone’s in the town between 1pm and 2pm on that day, signing copies of All The Single Ladies and writing personal messages for mums who love reading. This is surely the perfect Mother’s Day gift: it lasts longer than M&S roses and is totally calorie free!

Seeing as it’s Valentine’s Day, I couldn’t resist getting a little bit soppy – and have shared the story of how I met my boyfriend with this week’s Sunday Telegraph. He wasn’t at all easy to find, as will become patently obvious from the piece! You can read my kiss ‘n’ tell (almost) here

Book signings can be a daunting affair for an author. I’m still haunted by the anecdote one store manager told me about a celebrity (a household name) who was booked in for a signing to promote his autobiography. They hired crash barriers in anticipation of the grand event . . . and two people turned up. I’m happy to say that significantly more than two people turned up at my signings in Liverpool and Ormskirk at the weekend – and it was fantastic to meet all those who came along. If you couldn’t make it this time, I’ll be bringing news of some pre-Mother’s day signings soon – so watch this space.

For all those who’ve been asking about signings, I’m happy to report that I have two lined up (with more to follow). They are on February 11th at Waterstone’s Ormskirk (1pm-2pm) and Waterstone’s Liverpool One (3pm-4pm). I’ll be signing copies of All The Single Ladies just in time for Valentine’s Day – so if your significant other is in danger of presenting you with some Esso chrysathemums, I suggest you start hinting quick!

I worked out today that I first started work on All The Single Ladies in May 2010. Perhaps because it’s been so long in the making, I can’t help approaching the publication of my first hardback with a mild sense of disbelief … and trepidation. What started out as a grain of an idea – that probably came to me in some glamorous location, such as the checkout at Tesco – is now a real, bona fide book. One that (I’m sincerely hoping) will be read by real, bona fide people. I would love to report that pre-publication nerves are a thing of the past now that I’m onto my fifth novel. Sadly that would be about as accurate a statement as ‘Chocolate cake? I could take it or leave it’. The reality is, I’m in a complete spin right now – a bundle of excitement, terror and that lovely little thing they call optimism …

I’ve just come back from a fantastic day in London where I took part in a photo shoot for LOOK magazine with debut author Victoria Fox. It was for a feature that involved highlighting a new author who I think is destined for great things. Victoria’s only in her mid-twenties – just a little younger than me (in my dreams) – but she’s already been dubbed ‘the next Jackie Collins’. Her first bonkbuster Hollywood Sinners is a fantastic read – fast-paced, glam and full of bits you’d rather your mum didn’t read. I must admit I enjoy taking part in photo shoots – it’s great having a make-up lady following you around making sure your hair’s never out of place and you don’t have lettuce in your teeth. I could do with one all the time if the truth be told. Anyway, the piece appears in LOOK in a week or so’s time… so watch this space!

I’m just back from an amazing day at the Clothes Show Live in Birmingham… and have the blisters on my feet to prove it. It was a whirlwind of day which involved signing God knows how many books, chatting to readers and – it being the Clothes Show – being interviewed in the ‘Style Studio’ about where I go to buy my clothes (at which point I was forced to confess it was rarely in Harvey Nicks, despite what I’d like).

The gorgeous ladies from Books And The City – namely, Sara-Jade, Malinda, Georgie, Alice and Dawn – are still there until Wednesday, flying the flag for fabulous women’s fiction, handing out goody bags and administering smelling salts to anyone phyiscally swooning over the shoes on our stand (it happened a few times).

If you happen to have a day off in the next couple of days, I’d highly recommend heading over to the NEC to see them, along with authors Milly Johnson (who’s there on Tuesday) and Tara Hyland (who’s there on Wednesday).