Authors Electric

  This is the seventh, and ultimate, monthly chapter in the saga of an ex-prime minister - unless, of course, something else interesting happens ... “Dancing?” Teddy looked entirely non-plussed by the word. “Are you sure I’m the right man for the job?” “It’s the most popular programme in the country at the moment,” Ding pointed out. “You put on some pretty spectacular shows on dance floors in your youth,” Puppy reminded him. “Did I?” Teddy squinted hard, as if trying to conjure up a picture of his past. “I don’t remember that.” “No, well,” Ding shrugged, “you were usually pretty loaded.” “But you had a pretty good natural rhythm,” Puppy interjected. “The girls always seemed pretty impressed.” “Ah, yes,” Teddy’s eyes misted over. “The girls. They all like a chap with a few natty moves.” “Indeed,” Ding said, “so you are booked to be on the next series. Rehearsals start next week.” The producers at Strictly had a number of heated meetings around the subject of which of...

A couple of months ago I wrote about the hiring of Midas PR to launch “Chances”,  the erotic memoir which I had ghosted for an anonymous European lady who was going under the names of Penny. Last week the mighty Midas machine picked up speed and I found myself writing articles and doing a succession of interviews to promote the book, culminating in an encounter with Claudia Winkleman on her late night Radio2 arts show. Whenever I mentioned to anyone that I was going to be meeting Miss Winkleman I always received the same response - “Oh, I love Claudia Winkleman”. It didn’t seem to matter what age or gender the person was, or whether they were likely to be fans of reality shows like “Strictly” or cultural offerings like “Film 2015”, her puppyish glamour had somehow worked on all of them. It appears the woman is fast-tracking towards being a national treasure. What, I wondered, could be the secret of this magical spell she was casting over the nation? Listening to s...

I know this is way off-subject, but I hope you're all playing the Strictly Come Dancing Bowl Of Nibbles Game every Saturday night. The rules are very simple. You must eat: one handful of peanuts each time Alesha uses the word 'story-telling' two handfuls of peanuts every time it looks like Len is about to stand up and walk out mumbling 'sod the lot of you' one twiglet for each Brucie joke which doesn't get a laugh, OR for each time you think Brucie's going to fall and break a hip a bag of ready salted crisps every time Anton clearly wishes he was doing Brucie's job one cheesy wotsit for each square centimetre of naked skin shown by Ola's new outfit (up to a maximum of seven party bags) a square of chocolate every time Anita Dobson smiles and frightens the children three doritos for each time you shudder either a) because you get an uneasy feeling that there's something sinister about Robbie the footballer, b) at the realisation that Art...