“Neither am I.” quipped Peter Cook when he met a man who said he was writing a book. A great agent friend of mine said he had a cupboard full of clients who were “just finishing.” theirs. My beloved husband is compiling showbiz anecdotes to go into his book and I still have the rejection letter from a major publisher to whom my dear departed mother sent a manuscript called “Balls.” It was a tale about a violinist who gave up performing and took up football. However, he wasn’t very good at it and had to retire after being kicked in the nuts. My parents were going through the early stages of divorce at the time and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to work out what was going through my mum’s head. The letter said, “We all wish you well in any other career you might choose to pursue.” Oh, I DO love a bit of passive aggressive every now and then.

I’ve finished the first draft of “Mumbelievable” and now feel like the expectant kid who’s finally handed in their homework. The wonderful editor I work with will no doubt point out the glaringly obvious and recommend in her beautifully subtle way that perhaps this could do with a slightly change in direction here and there. I’m hoping that within the next few weeks we’ll have a version that’s ready to send to the publisher and then, who knows?

It was an honour to have been asked to comment professionally on the body language on display at Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II’s state funeral on Monday. I have always been fascinated by non verbal communication and learned from a very young age that what people said was often at odds with how they were really feeling. My mum was a completely open book, however my dad was a “masker” and spent a lot of time pacifying me and my brother amid the arguments and mayhem. His expressions, nervous ticks and body positioning always gave away that he was stressed, even though he told us that everything was OK. “Don’t judge a book by its cover” – how true. My mum always wanted me to write a book about my experiences and wrote me a list of chapters. I was five or six and thought at the time that these chapters were all feasible and that one day I would achieve them. After all, mums are grown ups and know what they’re saying. Don’t they? “The day I sang for Cilla Black”. “The day I danced for the Queen.” “The day I rode a horse to Buckingham Palace.” “The day I drove a bus.” and “When I flew with the birds.” Only one of those came true, (number 4) and I did once join in with Cilla Black when she came on the Gloria Hunniford Show on BBC Radio 2 and encouraged the team to sing harmonies for “Anyone Who Had a Heart.” So maybe two out of five. Come to think of it, I did once go parasailing and was floating up in the air alongside a pack of seagulls on holiday once, so maybe three out of five. Doesn’t it go to show that we’re writing our own life stories all the time and if we unblock our thinking, we’re all achieving things we never thought possible?

OK. Procrastination over. Focus Beldom, focus. First draft written, now get it out there.

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