So Authors Sit on their Bottoms all day, do they?

I can't understand why the Beeb have been after me to become a radio presenter. I sound like a strangled parrot on airwaves, a million miles away from the silky tones of Terry Wogan. But, another string to one's bow is always an attractive thing to have, so I agreed to have a trial run with my second family Radio Sheffield, who have put up with my witterings for years. I don't feel any nerves anymore going on the radio - or at least I didn't on the visitor side of things. Put me on the presenting side and I felt like I was going to a dentist for root canal surgery the day after painkillers had just been outlawed! How scary is it! My dummy run - taped for posterity on a disk - was a masterpiece in how not to present programmes and will probably enter textbooks under that title. 'And now the travel and thingy with Jen' - pure pure class. But how much fun was it? LOADS! I felt as if I was in control of a plane with all the faders and screens and buttons. Nothing like a bit of live feed to crank up the adrenaline levels. Now I just have to wait until the head honchos have listened to me interviewing a guy who'd just had a kidney transplant, the belly dancer from Britain's Got Talent Sophie Mei and JJ the resident chef who brought in some vegetarian Scotch eggs which I scoffed heartily whilst talking about Dutch Apple Pies on a sponge base.
If all that doesn't sound bizarre enough for you - then I have to tell you that I've agreed to be photographed naked in a bath of Yorkshire Pudding Batter for an exhibition of Barnsley people - like Whoopi Goldberg was in milk. The things one has to do for PR when my dog is getting more publicity than me with his newspaper column.
And people think that authors just sit at home on their bottoms and write stories!