What. A. Week. Are you still standing? I'm just about vertical at the moment. The other night, I passed out at 9.30pm clutching half a bottle of bellini, trying to binge watch OITNB but waking up and realised I'd slept through episode two in its entirety. But then it has also been a week of awesomeness. Souper Mum has been launched. What a strange word. It feels like we loaded it into a catapult and sent it flying into the atmosphere. The launch will stay with me as one my most favourite moments ever. Two incredibly talented actors joined us to read the Prologue: Emma Harris and David Robertson (they're in the pics, they're shiny and beautiful and know how to stand). They will now forever be the voices of Jools and Matt. Kono made Souper Mum cupcakes. Red Velvet! Hurrah! There was Prosecco and laughing and people and I signed books. I wore ASOS in the end, with M&S shoes. We raised a bit of cash for an amazing charity called Maternity Worldwide too, with a raffle where one of the prizes was an actual tin of Campbell's Cream of Tomato (well done, Rae!). I made a speech. I cried. Especially when talking about the King of the North. Because none of this would exist without him. He pushed this, he gave me that kick up the arse I needed to make this happen. Every writer needs someone like that in their lives. I left that evening on a high, totally overwhelmed. I came home, took off my bra, put on my dressing gown, collapsed on the sofa and ate half a tray of leftover sandwiches with the King of the North and my mate, Alex.
'What just happened?'
'You wrote a book.'
'Those mums at your school can't half drink, eh?'
The days after have been manic too. Here's Souper Mum in Heathrow. And lots of people taking pictures of their copies arriving. People are reading it. Hurrah! Mild panic! Yay! I have one review. It's got five stars. Yay! (Was that you, Mum?) I've had the loveliest messages of love and support from old work colleagues, schoolfriends from back in the day and an Instagram comment from Grace. I used to be Grace's nanny back when she was the same age as Jon Snow. She's now in her twenties and one of the bravest, most glorious young ladies I know. It's comments from people like her that have meant the world, that have induced leaky face syndrome on more than one occasion.
So I'm going to have a bit of a break to let it all sink in and to catch up on my ironing. Clothes. Everywhere. Tim Peake saw my ironing pile from space. He told me himself. For now, here are some links to other blogs that have kindly hosted me this week to help me spread the Souper Mum love.