Wednesday, 3 October 2012

In Which Kate Meets Caitlin Moran. Scream!

So, two weeks ago today I got to meet Caitlin Moran. I know. SCREAM!

She was as lovely in person as in print and is clearly a natural storyteller. She's funny, unpretentious and managed to make a whole room agree that maybe if you want to go into the music/publishing/media industry you should actually support it by you know, paying for stuff. A room full of twenty-somethings no less.

Which is a good point: as a writer it's hard to get paid for anything when there's so many young hopefuls (some of them more experienced than you) willing to do it for free. In theory, doing stuff for free is supposed to generate exposure and give young writers something to put on their CV. In practice... well it helps. But your writing has the value you give it and paid contributions tend to count for more.

Anyway, if you ever get a chance to hear Caitlin Moran speak I advise you to take it. Not only is she really, REALLY funny, she's also super nice. Anyone who stays until everyone in the (really long) signing queue has been seen, despite having a train to catch, is good people as far as I'm concerned.

On reflection I thought this picture would look
 better than the face melty one. You're welcome.
Due to the timescale (and my friend Rachel distracting her with an awesome owl hat) I didn't get to speak to her for long. I did however get a hug, which was good for two reasons: the first being that Caitlin Moran gives awesome hugs and the second being that it didn't require my to say very much. It's really hard to speak when you meet one of your heroes but at least I didn't dissolve in some kind of Raiders of the Lost Ark scenario for looking too closely upon the Goddess Moran as I was half afraid would happen. That's a compliment. I think.

Also, I got a signed copy of her new book for my mum's birthday and brought along my old copy of her first book for myself, a situation which led to her thinking I was called Margaret. Which I take as proof that a) I am a good and selfless daughter and, b) Taylor women have a family resemblance so strong we're destined to be mistaken for each other even when we're hundreds of miles apart with a thirty year age difference. If I go to the village where my mum grew up old ladies I've never met have been known to start talking to me on the basis that I'm 'obviously Margaret's daughter'. Although this is the first time I've been mistaken for a relative the other person had never met. Obviously we all need to start wearing t-shirts with our names written on, Flash Gordon style.

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