I wasn't going to blog anything about the London bombings. There's plenty of other sites out there, with a huge range of takes on the subject. There's no need to add mine, especially seeing as it's only me that's going to read it.
However, this news story caught my eye. Can you imagine how you'd feel if your first novel was about to come out, a film company had taken an option on it, and a big ad campaign was just about to launch it into the big time? Pretty fucking good, eh?
And then the idea of your novel happens in reality. Then it's not such a good idea after all. You just know that one of the first thoughts of the author, while watching these horrible events unfold on TV, was "Bollocks. That's my novel flushed down the toilet." And then, the thought straight after that would be "Oh fuck, people are dying and I'm worried about my fucking book, I'm such a shit". When everything seems to be going well, that's when life likes to run up and give you a swift kick in the knackers. Poor guy.
(Look, I know there are far worse stories about these events. People have lost much, much more than a possible upturn in their careers, and they have my deepest sympathy. But my Britishness means I can really relate to the guilt and embarrassment of this man, and his publishers.)