Had a thoroughly enjoyable experience being interviewed on BBC Radio Leeds this week. Wes Butters – what a lovely chap. Butters by name and butters by … Well. As you can hear – he started by being ever so nice to me, and then tried to grill me about all of the politicians that I’ve slept with. Honestly. These journalists! As if I’d talk about something as personal as sex and relationships on air! With the whole of the west Riding of Yorkshire listening!
Actually – I had better clarify that. Wes Butters didn’t ask me anything about sex. It was yours truly who started wibbling about that kind of thing (best mate would be saying ‘Methinks the Lady Doth Protest Too Much!’)
But hey, my parents are still speaking to me and they haven’t contacted social services about the fact that my newfound lust for media exposure has led me to total and abject neglect of my children (although I have been sending the kids to school with out-of-date yoghurts, so getting them taken into care would perhaps be justified.)
I’ve done interviews and photo shoots and stuff like that before for various things that I’ve been involved with – so none of it is really alien to me. But it *is* strange when you’re talking about your own life experience. In short, I felt like a total muppet.
What was even more bizarre, was the fact that people you haven’t told about the interview, get to hear you. My next door neighbour said that her mum texted her to say ‘your Christina is on the radio!’ And then a neighbour on the other side told my other half ‘Hey – I’ve just downloaded your wife’s e-book.’ Now, neighbour on the other side hasn’t known us for very long. And if he is reading this – I have to say that he wins a Blimmin’ Great Big Prize for his detective work (as well as his ever-so-kind strimming of the overgrown passage-way at the back… I mean – Curse you Kirklees Council for neglecting our ginnel yet again this summer!) Apparently our smashing neighbour put two and two together whilst listening (name of the village, the mention of Namibia) and realised that it was me.
Although … I actually *think* that he was too polite to say the real reason as to why he twigged that it was me. The poor chap MUST have heard me – for many hours – ranting and raving at myself as I practice reading aloud, from our shed at the top of the garden which backs onto his. Noise drifts all too easily in this valley. I suspect strongly that he realised that he was living in great proximity to a total lunatic who shrieks at herself in her shed and then he recognised the voice on the radio …
Anyway. If you want to hear me sounding like a complete numpty – it will be on Listen Again for a short while…
http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p021l10b (the 8/7 show – move the counter to 1:07)
And then it’s off to The Emporium in Slaithwaite this Sunday for a book signing. I’ve already bought myself a nice new chimney pot from their wonderful eclectic mix of items, so sadly I shall be at a loss before I even started selling books. But who cares? I do it for the love of it! And to embarrass myself in front of our very gracious neighbours of course … who are far too dignified to Go Public about how distressing it must be, living next the Like Of Us.