Here I am, mascaraless but starry eyed, having stumbled upon Kisses for Lula on a real-live bookshelf for the first time. My little girl was jumping about going, ‘My mummy is famous! She’s famous!’ (she could do this without people locking her away because she was only six) .

The Waterstones booksellers were looking at us oddly, probably because there were six of us all crouched down behind a display table – that’s what happens with the author name MACKINTOSH. You get the bottom shelf, unlike AHLBERG, who gets the top shelf, or NOLAN, who gets the very next top shelf, or ROWLING, J.K. who gets to be at coveted eye level.

Not that I’m complaining, you understand.


Just call me Samantha ACKINTOSH from now on, please.

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