Better Late Than Never

It's time for another piece of meandering, self-indulgent dross that some readers might generously describe as a post, somewhat delayed by being located in a country whose authorities childishly restrict internet access.

Anyhow, Elisabeth Sladen - the woman who played Sarah Jane Smith - has died. You may recall that she 'starred' as the perfect female in my debut novel, Looking for Sarah Jane Smith,. Then again, you probably don't. Back in 2001 I contacted the BBC and her agent to get permission to use a still from Pyramids of Mars on the front cover. After sending her the first chapter (and a deeply apologetic letter in a bid to counter what can only be described as the relentless filth of my writing) she allowed the image to be used. Or perhaps she just wanted the hundred quid I had to stump up, confident that the book would disappear into obscurity. Somehow, though, I doubt such an accusation is true. I prefer to think of her as a patron to my art, even if there's no truth in that statement whatsoever. Delusion has always been my favoured method for struggling through this torment called life.

LFSJS has now become my best-selling ebook and some would say it's my finest effort. Well, I don't know about that but I wish all books were so easy to write. It only took nine weeks to complete, a vitriol-spewing exercise that centres on three sexist idiots. God knows what Lis Sladen thought of it - it really is one hell of a backhanded compliment to be held up as a paragon of virtue in a sea of bile - so you can imagine my surprise when she graciously sent me a signed copy. She even included the phrase 'Best Wishes' instead of the far more fitting 'Seek psychiatric help, Franklin. Now.'

My mum and dad once met Lis Sladen at some garden party. I'd like to label this a one-off brush with celebrity for my slightly befuddled parents but it's simply part of a long-standing pattern in which they get to natter with B and C-listers. I picked up the phone once at their home and Daniel O'Donnell was on the other end. Another time I opened the front door to find Roy Hudd had come round for tea. The Krankies have given my parents a lift home. Occasionally they hit it big by holding an Oscar or hanging out with a snooker world champion. This is the sort of life they lead while the best I can manage in trying to compete with their star-studded encounters is briefly sitting on Val Doonigan's lap. And yes, I don't even remember who Val Doonigan is.

So, anyway, my parents met SJ and sent me a photo (which surprisingly is not of her pouring petrol on my book). I guess I will always keep that slightly blurred photo, along with the signed copy of LFSJS.

Goodbye, Sarah Jane. I hope you liked my mum and dad.