Sunday Afternoon, aka The Phoney War
During WWII, the period of comparative peace during the winter of 1939 – 40, before outright fighting broke out was known as The Phoney War. That’s now, here in Bristol…
I’ve just realized with mounting horror that in exactly one calendar week we will be approaching the end of the Launch Party for Future Bristol.
During the Just as the British and French were completely unprepared for the German onslaught in the spring and summer of 1940, though, I’ve been caught by how close the party is, and how unprepared I am.
Yes, sure, the stock is ordered, the drinks and food have been paid for, the raffle tickets purchased and a helpful dealer lined up to actually stock the books.
But I haven’t told any of the team that, and as well I have a few hours to write to another panel.
I’ve been lulled, you see. This morning the sun was shining, my in-laws were up and we were walking the dogs around Ashton Court, an 850 acre estate on the edge of Bristol that’s given over to nature trails, cyclists, dog walkers and horse riders. We have visitors because tonight Kate will be singing in a performance of Mozart’s Requiem in Bathwick, and they’ve come to listen to her, with me and about fifty other people on the far side of Bath.
So by the time we get home, I need to have come up with a set of five questions for authors of varying technical background about Cutting Edge Crime, about which I know very little, and to have worked out all the details with the team – if only to give them time to prepare!
Heigh ho. Best I get on with it and stop whinging…
