Occasionally I don't want to let characters go. Some of the characters in Hibiscus Coast, my second novel, reappeared in the short story "Red Christmas," and sometimes I think about writing a sequel to the whole novel. Readers of my YA books (readers of all YA books, perhaps) are obsessed with sequels, emailing or writing to demand one, and often suggesting plot lines. I've written one sequel so far - Unbroken, which takes up the story of Ruined a year on - and I'd quite like to do a sequel to Dark Souls set in Barcelona or Seville.
This blog is named for my third novel, Trendy But Casual. I really like this book a lot. Is it wrong for an author to admit that? I often think about its heroine, Jane Shore, and her dysfunctional family and friends.
I miss them all, and I like writing parody and satire more than anything else, really. So, for a while I've been plotting a comeback for Jane that's a different sort of sequel. A blog, which she'll update several times a week: she'll be much more assiduous than I am here! It's about her true calling in life, PR, and the people she meets, events she attends, and extreme opinions she holds on all things pop-cultural. Real celebrities are mentioned, but it's all fiction, of course - like all those magazine covers that claim Jennifer Aniston is pregnant and Brangelina are getting married this weekend. (And that Daily Mail article last week that said women should get their hair cut short when they turn 46.)
The blog and all its post headings are references to Human League songs and lyric lines. Please visit! And if you're ever wondering WWACD? (What Would a Celebrity Do?), please send Jane a question. She's going to start including Reader Letters next week.
The blog is everybodyneedstwoorthreefriends.com
For those of you unable to sleep at night for worry about my health: I still have the boot, one crutch, lots of ugly stitches, and a broken, swollen foot. Today I had to go back in for a chat with Dr Dan, handsome and gruff as ever. I thought that Dr Dan was surly and antisocial, but now I just think he's taking the blunt Yorkshireman thing a little too far.
Today he actually said my name, rather than just standing in the doorway, glowering at me, as he did last time. "Mrs Morris!" he called.
My mother used to talk about how odd it was, hearing herself called "Mrs Morris." She said she thought people were referring to my grandmother. Part of me is glad to be carrying on the Mrs Morris tradition, but most of me would prefer to be called Ms Morris, or Dr Morris, or Paula, or some friendly variation on the latter.
So I began telling Dr Dan that I'm not Mrs Morris, actually.
"I call all women Mrs!" he barked. They get offended, he claims, if he calls them Ms or Miss. Really? REALLY?
Don't argue with Dr Dan, especially when he's got your broken foot in his hand, and holds the power of painkillers.
I think he warmed to me by the end of our appointment, despite my lack of a correct womanly title, and even gave me a pat on the shoulder before I hobbled off. That's the South Yorkshire equivalent of two kisses.
At the hospital they call me Mrs Morris as well, though I've asked them to change it on my records. The Royal Bank of Scotland unilaterally decided to issue me a debit card in the name of "Miss Paula Morris." Waitrose sent me a card printed with "Ms Morris" - no first name, no initials.
Sky sends Tom letters addressed to "Ms Paula and Tom Morris-Moody" that begin "Dear Tom Morris-Moody." But at least we seem to have left the mysterious Morris P. Moody behind in the US.