Romantic comedy and waiters

It came to me around 48 hours ago. It has been buzzing about in my mind getting stronger until this morning, as I was walking through Covent Garden on the way to work, it morphed into an idea for a book. A romantic comedy. Not an historical. Not a family saga. A here and now thing that would probably get marketed as 'chick-lit' (or whatever they decide to market 'chick-lit' as next as it appears to be going out of fashion).

Now I know it is going to bug me until I promise it I'll at least try and write the first chapter. Gosh, the mixture of excitment yet frustration is really quite heady. (Or is it that I might have consumed one champagne cocktail too many last night? lol)

Excitement because ideas mean possibilities, which are always exciting. Frustration because if it kicks off and I end up putting THE ASSASIN on the back-burner, there's that ever-danger that there's another book I wanted to write which might not get written.

Speaking of last night, I had a very pleasant evening with friends at The Bluebird in Chelsea (thanks Michael!). I had a huge surprise that two friends had brought copies of The Lady Soldier along for me to sign for them! (thanks Charlotte and Richard!) So we are sitting around the table, ordering, and the waiters are hoovering as the book gets passed around, and people are talking about it. And the Maitre D' leans over and says, 'How wonderful, Madam. Congratulations.' And then after that I end up being served with everything first - which was a little strange as I wasn't guest of honour or anything. I wonder if this is what happens to celebrities in restaurants. Are the waiters primed to be on the lookout to spot them, so they can then defer accordingly?