BOOK MY GLOBE

I am very pleased to be able to announce that EAT MY GLOBE is not only going to be a blog about one man’s journey into penury (for those who don't know, that's just outside Basingstoke) but is also, now going to be a book.

A few weeks ago, with my hugely energetic agent, Euan Thorneycroft of AM Heath, I spent a good few days rushing from publisher to publisher talking about what I was doing, why I was doing it and why it may just make an interesting read.

They were all good meetings and everyone listened politely as I blubbed about a mid life crisis or reaching the "tipping point” and, thankfully, a lot of them were very interested in the book.

One publisher, however, seemed to understand it more than any other.

John Murray is a quite famous house in the UK not least because they were the publisher of one of my favourite poets, Sir John Betjeman.

They have changed a bit since his day though. Now a semi autonomous arm of Hodder Headline, they combine the positives of a small boutique publishing house with the benefits of the large sales force of a major brand.

Quite frankly, when I met them, they blew me away with their enthusiasm. Not just that, but many of their small team had prepared dishes for me and Euan to sample while we talked.

A spinach dip that reminded me of the creamed spinach at a great Manhattan Steakhouse, Lebanese sausages in gold leaf and a rather splendid passion fruit cheesecake.

Not only that, but they had also put together a scrapbook called “ The John Murray Family Recipe Book” where each of the team had written down their recipes along side a detailed marketing plan for the book which included the cartoon you see above which came from the hugely talented illustrator, James Burgess.

As I said, it was hard not to be blown away.

I went off to Padstow the next week, leaving Euan to do what he do so well and, I was thrilled when we reached an agreement to publish the book in May 2009.

All I have to do is write the bloody thing.

One good omen, though. As I spent a day hiking in Cornwall, it was pouring with rain and I could not get a signal on my phone. For one brief moment, however, the sun broke through and my phone sprang into life with a call from Euan telling me that all was going ahead with john Murray.

At that moment, I was standing in a small churchyard overlooking the sea, next to the small headstone of one Sir John Betjeman.

I hope that means he approves