A little over two lives ago I put paw to paper on my first novel . . . one small pad for cat, one giant pounce for pusskind. Months later, having scratched the last full stop on the last sentence of the last page, I scrabbled onto the rooftiles to announce the arrival of an exciting new talent. I then waited for the world to beat a path to my catflap. And I waited. And I waited. Surely, I mewsed, there must be packs of talent hounds sniffing about for the new Catullus? But no . . . odd, I thought after several weeks had pawsed without being snaffled up by a publisher. I scratched an ear, all of a fuddle. Maybe the timing is wrong. Or perhaps the genre - Cuddly Crime - is old hat. Or is the title – The Curious Tail of The Whiskerless Mouse ¬¬– insufficiently eyecatching? So, determined not to let the catnip grow under my feet, I set to work on a sequel. Well, to cut eight long stories short, I now have a series of unputdownable thrillers ready to go.
Em Thompson
Published on September 19, 2024 04:27