Spent a few days at Maisie's country house. There is a reason nobody lives up there. But I got some very bad news about my book. I was furious. I wanted to quit. The line from American Idiot kept pulsing through my head. "Farewell, I'll see you in hell. I hope you rest in pieces - FUCK YOU!" I went to bed fully ready to end this madness in the morning - literary suicide. Something weird happened. I woke up in the middle of the night and my iPod, which I had turned off before I went to bed, was on. I reached for it and listened. Everything's Coming Up Roses was playing. My grandmother was a big Gypsy fan. Before she died I sat and watched the movie with her, and when the song came on she reached for my hand and murmured, "I love this song." She loved the song and she loved me. And I will keep going because she believed I could.
It's not over till you're underground. Nanny is, but guess what. I'm not and neither is this book. I will not move from where I'm standing and this is not over yet.