At a party this weekend, in Hampstead, the host introduced me to a couple who had until recently been his neighbours. He said I was an amazing artist – then apologised for not yet having framed a picture of mine he owns.
At which, the wife immediately dashed off to find it.
They were great fun to talk to. I mentioned I’d only recently started making art alongside the writing, and that some of the Hampstead pictures had gone into my book Psalms for the City.
I felt a little embarrassed, later, when I found out that the woman is an accomplished artist herself, and her husband makes Hollywood movies. But hey, we’re all different, just doing what we want to do.
Afterwards, I wanted to let him know the name of a film we talked about briefly. So I wrote a note and put it in an envelope with a copy of Psalms for the City.
I’ve been sending out a lot of my own books recently (mostly not that one) and it’s given me a lot of pleasure. I just love the idea of a physical object going out to people, carried by real human postal workers, and dropping through letter boxes.
So while my proper shop is still being built – while I untangle what turns out to be several Stripe accounts, accumulated mysteriously over the years via various email services – I’ve done something simple: set up a single payment link for Psalms for the City. A hardback, illustrated, the kind of thing that wants to arrive in the post.
People click, pay, tell me where to send it. I get notified, sign a copy, take it to the post office.
One link. One book.
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