Madame Arcati now blogs at Anorak

Anorak

And on that note, goodbye

My blogging phase is over. No more free prose. xx

Hilary Mantel: Awards, silly AS Byatt and an indoor lavatory

Hilary Mantel writes a rather delish piece in the latest issue of Intelligent Life on writers and awards. The 2009 Man Booker prize winner for Wolf Hall, she's a veteran of shortlists and victory cheques and so ably qualified to guide us into a world where X Factor-like star-fucking collides with trembly loner-creatives shy of flashlight.

The piece is so rich with observation and sly indiscretion that I shan't even attempt to synopsise. But my thanks to a reader for drawing my attention to Mantel's amused recollections of the 1990 Man Booker on which she was one of the judges. Of the benign absurdities she writes:

'There was an element of bathos when the winner, A.S. Byatt, said that she would use the money to build a swimming pool at her second home. At times of crisis—and winning this prize is a crisis—people say the most extraordinary things. I seem to recall one novelist saying more humbly that his winner’s cheque would pay for an extra bathroom. For years I dreamt of pursuing the watery theme: of flourishing my £50,000 with a cry of, “At last, I see my way to an indoor lavatory."'

Mantel recalls the many idiotic things said to her at awards by members of the public and her mixed feelings of watching a winning title rocket up the Amazon sales chart while the curses of online ranking and categorising seem like off-shoots of prize industry thinking.

But she's done well out of it. She reveals that winning the Man Booker has helped her find publishers in 30 countries in the last nine months - and made her rich enough to write what she likes.

Intelligent Life

Charles Shaar Murray: How to enchant the grown-ups

You, too, could be the next Charles Shaar Murray. The 'legendary' former NME rock writer will tutor 20 aspirants in the art and craft of writing and journalism in an eight-week series of masterclasses called The Hothouse Project, hosted by Storm Books, in north-west London. Price: £195. Late Sept-Nov.

He will help refine your talents in interviewing and reviewing, even in writing a column. In his shoes I'd familiarise the student with the small claims court and the value of sleeping with commissioning editors - one must always think pragmatically, that's what I always say. Not that the latter strategy always gets you the promised column: I know of one  female writer who pleasured a national newspaper editor for a while and he never delivered. So, my third lesson would be in artful blackmail. The fourth would be in the everlasting value of storing emails: delete nothing. I shiver with delight at what students could learn from me.

But back to CSM. He appears to think that he has secrets to impart for the betterment of literary career. He reviewed Stephen King's memoir On Writing once and concluded that 'personal magic' is the X factor any writer needs for success. So prepare to enrol at Hogwarts.

CSM website

Proust's Overcoat - some like it otter

Photograph courtesy of Eric Karpeles

Here it is, the literary Turin Shroud: Proust's overcoat. He wore this otter-lined garment in all weathers and used it as a blanket every night while writing in bed.

The photo is to be found in Lorenza Foschini's recently published Proust's Overcoat: The True Story of One Man's Passion for All Things Proust. She tells the intriguing tale of Parisian perfume magnate and bibliophile Jacques Guérin's successful quest - which began in 1929 - to save many of the great dandiacal author's manuscripts, notebooks, personal effects - even his bed.

Appalled by his homosexuality, Proust's family - and sister-in-law in particular - had already embarked on a campaign of vandalism against their inheritance when Guérin made it his life's work to salvage what he could. Foschini's literary detective tale channels the Indiana Jones-like spirit of Guérin who saw his chance to do posterity a favour when he was brought by chance under the care of Marcel's brother, Dr Robert Proust. The things Guérin had to do to save some moth-eaten coat!

Tarka the Otter was first published in 1927, a Guérin contemporary. Interview with Foschini

Divine Brown writes her Cherry Red autobiography

The 'Hollywood sex worker' who rocketed to international stardom after fellating actor Hugh Grant in his car back in 1995 is writing her memoirs.

Divine Brown - or Estella Marie Thompson, as she once was; or Stella Thompson as she now calls herself -  is piecing together her life story around the night of Hugh's fateful erection in her company along Sunset Boulevard.

I do think she should use Hugh's nickname for her - Cherry Red - in the title; something like, 'Better Cherry Red Than Dead', something like that.

When I typed 'divine brown writes autobiography' into Google for further details, the first link up was 'Gordon Brown biography delayed until after election'.

Jedward & Garry Bushell life stories: I just want to kill myself

Quite by accident the other night, I stumbled on a reality TV show about Jedward, the 18-year-old Irish identical twin brothers who purport to sing. Because I missed the first bit, I had no idea why they had been moved into a penthouse suite someplace in Dublin where they sought the stopcock, turned it on and flooded out the bathroom. Apparently this was their first time away from mum and dad (but what about their weeks away on The X Factor last year?). I assume they are virgins. I switched channels as they opened the fridge.

It's ony fitting then that John Blake has just snapped up rights to Jedward—Our Story, by Jennifer O'Brien: the authorised biography. It's out in October, just as The X Factor's warming up. Quite frankly, if this book does not recount their first (two-for-the-price-of-one) masturbatory experience - in separate rooms I hasten to add, yet weirdly coincident thanks to twinship oo-ee-oo telepathy - then I can't think what else is worth reading.

Just as challenging is the news that Garry Bushell's memoirs Bushell on the Rampage is due out on (appropriately) 9/11 from Apex. In Chapter 7 he recounts passionately snogging Barbara 'Bar' Windsor in a BBC green room. Bar repays him with a review for his book - 'Garry never pulls his punches, he’s naughty and great fun.' I'm surprised to learn that an average Apex initial print-run is just 500 copies. 'Future runs will incorporate any favourable review comments on the back cover to assist in increasing book sales,' Apex promises. To 600 copies?