Oh it’s all so glamorous

Today I went to Rugby and signed 1,400 copies of my novel. It was more fun than I’d anticipated (having heard stories of writers spending three days in draughty Glasgow warehouses) but still pretty exhausting. Apparently when (a great English man of letters who shall remain nameless) does these signings, he requests a bottle of champagne, and (another similar great man) tends to arrive drunk, and occasionally slip a tenner into a book “so that some lucky person will get a nice surprise”. I briefly considered signing one of them “Naomi the vampire slayer” but thought better of it. Or did I….?