Tag Archives: publicity

Onward!

So I know what you’re thinking …

Thank goodness the rhinoceros is launched. Thank goodness the tour is over. Thank goodness we don’t have to see any more ‘arty’ photos of the book by the beach, or in a boat, or framed weirdly by random sticks. Thank goodness we don’t have to humour any more of Meg’s crazed attempts to draw rhinoceroses in tutus/jumpers/both at once.

Maybe she’ll go back to her cave now and stop shouting LOOK! MY BOOK!

Yes, well. About that.

There’s a little more shouting to come, my friends. Because if September was rhinos, then October is:

this guy …

DO1

 

 

DO2

                and this guy …

 

 

 

 

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The Trailer is Parked!

Remember Pile #4 from my last post? Wherein I vowed to finish my book trailer and upload it somewhere other than my desk?

Well, I’ve done it. It took a very late night and a certain quantity of hair-pulling but it’s done and it’s on YouTube and pretty soon it’ll no doubt be a viral #1 hit all over the world.

Or not, but in any case, it will be done, and off my desk, and that is all to the good.

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Dig This!

Beware of photographers, I tell you. They will say things to you like, “Yes, let’s just take a few over there. Hold the shovel and smile. Excellent! Looks great!” …[click] [click] [click] … “Well, I think that’s all we need, then.” [feigned casualness] “How about one more? Just scream or something, make a crazy face – just for fun?”

So you scream and make a crazy face, just for fun, and then one day you wake up to this, on your doorstep, before you’ve even had your coffee:

830c3-megsdig

And suddenly all your friends start looking at you sideways, as if they’re beginning to see you in a whole new light.

** (Actually very fabulous) photograph by Marcus Whisson, in its original context here.

A Legend In My Own Lap Lane

I was recognised today, at my local pool, while doing laps, by a lifeguard. “Hey!” he said. “I had to ask – are you that writer-woman that was in the paper a while back?”

I was. I am. How utterly strange.

In less appealing news, it seems that I do resemble the hideous photo of me which appeared with the article – at least when wet, kind of bald-looking and with odd lines etched into my face from swimming cap and goggles. Make of this what you will.

In a stunning twist, my newest fan managed to get through an entire conversation about children’s writing without mentioning J.K. Rowling or the phrase, “Hey! Why don’t you …?”. Well played, lifeguard, well played!

The Other Meg

Went to the launch of The World According to Warren at Westbooks last night and what should I see when I walk through the door but a whole stack of Annabel, Again, with a shelf-talker declaring it Book of the Month and nominating me as ‘the Australian Meg Cabot‘.

This is both lovely and alarming, considering how quickly the other Meg writes (can we call her ‘the other Meg’? Can I be the Meg to whom all other Megs will now be referential? What will Meg Rosoff have to say about this? Most likely she will be too busy counting her awards to notice me). The point being that if I’m going to be any kind of Meg Cabot at all, I must put poetry and other worldly distractions aside and knuckle back down to Izzie, which is going perfectly well now, thank you very much (repeat, look convinced).