Sign o' the Times

I recently stuck my autograph on the signing sheets for the hardback limited edition of We Fade to Grey. Would have been an exciting moment -- the first time I've done a signing sheet! -- if my arm and shoulder muscles hadn't been all cramped up due to postural problems. This led to severe writing cramp by the time I signed the second sheet. Fortunately that left me with a mere 98 to go.

I couldn't even pace myself as there had been a delay posting the sheets round to the book's contributors so I needed to sign all the sheets in one go and post them back to the publisher. So by the time I finished I was walking around doubled over in pain, my face screwed up in agony, looking like a cross between Quasimodo and Wayne Rooney. Even more so than usual.

I wouldn't have minded so much if my signature had turned out okay but it looks awful at the best of times. A microscopic scrawl that would still be illegible even if written at a size that didn't make subatomic particles look the size of Mount Everest.

It didn't help that all the other writers had these elaborate sweeping signatures, all elegant loops and sweeping curls, that looked less like autographs and more like diagrams on how to tie the Gordian knot. Whereas my signature looked like someone had just scribbled on the page to make sure their pen was working.

Sigh.

In future I'm just going to use a rubber stamp.