Aaaaaaand action!

“Ladies and gentlemen… it is my great pleasure to ask you to raise your glasses -- apple juice of course -- in a toast to celebrate the Internet publishing campaign of all time (look over to Eric Roberts). To The Novelist!”

“To The Novelist!” (the gathered throng raise their glasses).

Five (or was it six?) takes. For the different angles, you see. I only fluffed my lines on one occasion and did once start speaking before the director shouted “Action!” All in all, I opened to rave reviews.

Filmmaker Mary McGuckian who made The Making Of Plus One…said I did such a good job playing myself in that she wanted me to play the publisher in her latest film, The Novelist.

My brother, Mark, who is visiting has been teasing me relentlessly. When he isn’t saying “aaaaaaand action!” he says “The Novelist” with as many different emphases as possible. Over and over again. Wearing a tad thin, I have to say, though I am enjoying being his favorite sister. I have forgiven him for calling me “portly” over Christmas.

Julia takes him hiking up Red Rock every day and to Monday playgroup social gatherings in Topanga, while I get him a part as a film extra, play table tennis at the Mondrian hotel (where we shot the party scene) and take him for drinks in the Sky Bar. Then on to the producer’s Hollywood mansion for Veuve Cliquot, single malt whisky, In-N-Out burgers and cold fries.

Mark nearly choked on his champagne when a lady casting agent said to me: “I know you’re an actor, but I’m sure I’ve met you somewhere before.”

Colin and I have had a coughing competition over Christmas and I won, having been diagnosed with bronchitis. But thanks to antibiotics and cough syrup laced with codeine, I battled on and cooked the Christmas feast wearing a surgical mask and plastic gloves so as not to infect the other guests. Colin was so sick he missed Christmas and Boxing Day.

Now, I accept that Julia and I had decided to get each other just a token gift this year and I chose to ignore this agreement, but I gave her: a pair of stylish spectacles (it’s getting harder for her to read the small print), a silk purse filled with quarters as she never has any for parking meters, a table that attaches to her microphone stand for water, shakers, etc., her favorite peppermint bark, loose leaf Earl Grey tea, fancy face cream, and a few other things I’ve forgotten – all beautifully wrapped with matching bows and ribbons.

She gave me… a fridge magnet that reads: “She knew she had a Big Fat Ass and her attitude was “Kiss It!”