I’m back from the annual Theakston’s Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival in Harrogate, helpfully abbreviated for Twitter purposes to the hashtag above.

Last year I was on Val McDermid’s New Blood panel on the Saturday, and so I spent most of the weekend in a state of ever-increasing panic. This year my 0nly responsibility was hosting a table at the Saturday evening dinner (at which there was to be a James Bond themed mystery to solve) and I thought I could probably cope with that and actually relax a bit and enjoy myself this time.

So my highlights of the weekend were, in no particular order:

Lovely People

The bookshop at the event did stock my books, which was nice of them considering I wasn’t doing a panel – and throughout the weekend I was stopped by some very kind people who seemed to know who I was and asked me to sign their books for them. Emma, who I met last year, bought a SECOND copy of Into the Darkest Corner because she’d loaned the first one to someone and it hadn’t come back. Catherine, who said hello on Facebook too, after we got home. Annette and Pete, who brought me their well-read copies of Into the Darkest Corner and Revenge of the Tide to sign (imagine carting a book all the way to Harrogate for that purpose!). Even MORE impressively, a very kind man called Chris from Flanders had brought me a copy of the Dutch edition of Revenge of the Tide (Bij Het Vallen Van De Nacht’) to sign. I had to drag him over to meet Holly so she could take our picture! Charlotte and her sister Ruth, who tweeted me to ask if they could meet me and were exceptionally kind. They had no idea they’d caught me at a particularly stressful moment (see below re nasty woman) and managed to make me feel all happy again without even realising it. Lovely Erin, who has been tremendously supportive over the past year – I met her last year after the New Blood Panel – how fab to see her again. Felt exceptionally lucky to get to see all these people. (And if I’ve forgotten someone, I’m really sorry!)

Panels with Famous People on Them

I got to hear Jeanette Winterson interviewing Ruth Rendell. Both of these women have had a phenomenal impact on me over the years. They were both so funny, intelligent and eloquent, it was like sitting in a living room with them eavesdropping on a wonderfully relaxed conversation. And yet they are both sharp as anything. And Ruth Rendell reminded me a lot of my wonderful and much missed Aunty Wendy. Seeing her on the stage brought a tear to my eye. Afterwards, in the signing tent, I got a book signed by each of them and I had one of those fangirl moments where I gushed something about how wonderful Jeanette was and how she should come every year. And then I walked away and for hours later I was thinking of far more relevant, bright things I could’ve and should’ve said to her. I should have told her that even now I can quote big chunks of ‘Sexing the Cherry’ because I read it when I was at university and loved every single word. How desperately I wished I had an ounce of her talent. How I’d laughed and cried at ‘Oranges are not the only fruit’ because I understood how it felt – all of it. How I’d loved the cover of ‘Art and Lies’ so much I could barely open it for fear of damaging it…

Anyway. I’m a great one for thinking of the best things to say half an hour after the moment has passed. See below.

I also got to hear Sarah Millican interviewing Lee Child. That was every bit as funny as you’d imagine. And Val McDermid in conversation with forensic anthropologist Professor Sue Black – that was a real eye-opener. (For the record, I’m just about curious enough to have demanded to see inside the Gucci bag). Mark Lawson (my hero) interviewing Kate Atkinson – was not what I’d expected at all. And of course, Val’s New Blood Panel this year, including the very wonderful Anya Lipska and Colette Mcbeth.

If you’re curious about the panels I’ve mentioned and the ones I haven’t, you can view the full festival programme here.

Friends

I drove up to Harrogate with my friend Sam (avid reader of everything) and my friend Lisa (fellow crime writer, former colleague, all-round genius) on Thursday. We had a big old journey of it with lots of traffic hold-ups. Ended up doing almost a complete circuit of the M25 and we were stuck in queues almost all the way up the M1. I know this probably won’t mean much if you live outside the UK. It took SEVEN AND A HALF HOURS. According to Google maps it should have taken us a smidge under four hours. Anyway! First world problem – we arrived safely.

Our hotel was great. We met up with Holly, editor at Myriad, and her fiance Matt, and we had a very nice dinner at the Orchid Restaurant. I got very tipsy. Lee Child arrived with lots of lovely ladies and we were being a bit excitable.

The next day Sam and Lisa got to meet the man himself. No idea where I was…

Nails

On the Saturday morning I decided to get my nails done. By which I mean, I wanted to get a ‘file and polish’ since my nails were quite long and were in danger of breaking. Well, lovely readers, I ended up having my first visit to a nail bar… and even though I said what I was after, I ended up with a full set of acrylics because the nice young man didn’t seem to speak much English and once he’d started it felt a bit rude to interrupt.

At one point Sam looked up from her magazine and noticed I was having things glued to me, and mouthed ‘what’s he doing?’ and I mouthed back, panic-stricken ‘I have no idea!’ I have to say I’m quite happy with how they ended up, and it didn’t cost very much. I have nails strong enough to unscrew an IKEA bedframe and I can’t type properly, but they’ll do….

When I got home D asked me if I could ask for a Phillips attachment next time (private joke – you had to be there).

 

 

 

 

Cocktails

Had to be done. Mine is the ‘Basil Grande’ on the left. In the centre is Sam’s Mojito, on the right is Lisa’s Cosmopolitan.

Later in the evening we had more. Sam and I had Strawberry Dacquiris, Lisa very sensibly stuck to the Rioja… I have no idea why our cocktails look strangely radioactive. It must be the overhead lighting, or something.,

                                  

 

Feeling like a writer