Sep 10

A Day in the Life of Chris Whitaker

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The day begins at 4.30am. An ungodly hour but my three-year-old is one of those needy types. He tells me about a nightmare he’s had which involves Death. I left a copy of The Book Thief lying around and he’s become obsessed with the cover.

I work from home and at 7am begin looking at the financial markets. Trading still pays the bills but I hope to one day be Patterson rich and dictate my books purely for pleasure.

At 9am I go to the gym I’ve recently joined. I walk around the gym floor nodding and sipping water, and wondering why no one else is wearing a headband.

When I get back I check my emails. My editor has sent me the new Tall Oaks cover to okay. The cover has been redesigned to coincide with the launch of my second book, All The Wicked Girls, and I think it looks brilliant. My agent also loves it, so my editor is happy.

I check Twitter and have some lovely messages from readers. I try not to spend too much time on social media (I still don’t have FB) but I love hearing from readers, bloggers and other authors too.

After lunch I write. I’m beginning to think about my next novel so spend a few hours doing some research. My wife recently checked my browsing history, so book 3 is going to have to be about Swedish lesbians or else I’m in real trouble.

At 5pm I head into London for the launch of Felicia Yap’s incredible debut, Yesterday. The party is in the roof garden of Headline Publishing’s offices and it’s seriously impressive. It makes me worry about booking my local Pizza Hut for my upcoming launch. I drink seven beers and then feel better.

At the launch I see some bloggers that really liked Tall Oaks. I tell them I love them then watch them exchange nervous looks. I realise I haven’t introduced myself.

I then run into Matt Blakstad. I tell him how much I enjoyed his novel, Lucky Ghost, and also that I love him. I make a mental note not to drink anymore.

After the launch I head over to a stag party in Shoreditch. My last train is at midnight and if I miss it a cab home is horribly expensive, so I try and take it easy. I drink my first ever Jägerbomb and the rest of the evening is a pleasant blur.

Much to my amazement I arrive at the station with ten minutes to spare, and settle into my seat with the kind of smugness I should realise comes before a fall.

I stretch and yawn as the day takes its toll, and as the train rumbles out of the station I decide to take a short nap.

When I open my eyes I realise I’ve missed my stop and ended up at the bloody airport again.

All the Wicked Girls pub. Zaffre. £7.99 + eBook