Today I went to Waterstones in Piccadilly in the middle of London. I went past the Leona Lewis queue. At that stage, nobody had hit her in the face. I saw some hands, I definitely saw some hands on the ends of people’s arms, but none were formed into the familiar ‘fist’ shape so I didn’t alert the security guards.

If I had known it would end up being the most talked about book signing of the year I would have stuck around. I’m now considering getting someone to smack me in the face when I do some signings in November. WHo’s up for it? I’ll pay you ten pounds. But you have to promise to just miss my head, and shout ‘wham!’ at the same time so everyone thinks it was real.

Right: time for bed.

Ta ta!