‘So, we’ll turn up at your house on Monday morning with the Khaki TV people to film the trailer, is that ok?’ asked Jade (lovely publicist at Simon & Schuster). ‘Sure,’ I said. Monday was days away. It would all be fine. Fast forward to 6 a.m. Monday morning… ‘There’s something happening today…Something that requires my house to be TIDY **** I leap out of bed and I scream at Hon to wake up. Obviously that doesn’t work (she’s had years of perfecting the ‘deeply asleep’ fake-up). The next three hours are just me, loud music and panic. An impossible task? Not if I ram everything in the cupboards. The only bits of the house they’ll see are literally sparkling by the time they turn up. There is coffee, there is a MOUNTAIN of croissants. There is cake (because nothing can happen in book world without cake) Forget being a writer, I am a domestic goddess… I am also a filthy, exhausted mess.
‘So we’ll just do it like a vlog?’ the film people suggest. Sure, why not? ‘In Hon’s bedroom?’ they suggest. Hon and I telegrah PANIC to each other. Her bedroom was not a room included in The Great Tidy Up. ‘We’re fine with it being messy,’ they assure us. Not knickers-on-the-floor messy though. Hon flees upstairs and shouts down permission to enter ten long minutes later. She is sweating but she’s done a good job, everything has been swept under the bed or rammed in the wardrobes (I don’t know where she gets it). ‘It’s a bit tidy,’ they say. I sob on the inside. ‘Also it’s a bit monochrome. Have you got any colourful cushions?’ Hon snorts.
The absence of colour in my house is a family joke (unfortunately now shared). Everyone asks me if I’m like the mum in Waiting for Callback but I’m really at one with the dad with his fear of any colour more exciting than grey. (Elektra’s mum is an excellent home keeper, a good example of writing as wish fulfillment). Much fun is now had at my expense as we try and (largely) fail to dress ‘the set’ with colour. It’s a high point when we discover a packet of Party Rings. Unfortunately as Hon then starts eating them they cause endless continuity issues. Filming is fun except that they cruelly make me appear on camera. Cruel because I HATE being filmed. I also HATE being photographed (have you seen my twitter profile?). Also let’s not forget that I am filthy and utterly unkempt and far too British to admit that I’d really like a makeover first. I always said I didn’t understand the appeal of Botox – well now I do. Readers they pressured me.
Finally they’re all done and they leave. Hon and I sit down, admit that it was sort of fun and devour every left over croissant and all the cake…
Check out the amazing finished trailer below:
 Our editor is very strict about swear words.
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