My dedication. Let me show you it.

One of the early pleasures of publishing books is that you get to dedicate them to people. It may perhaps mean more to me in the giving than it does to them in the receiving (to other people - even to my friends - books do not necessarily hold the same magisterial power that they do in my life: weird, but there you go); even so, it's a gift that's been enjoyed by both parties. (If I've set it in abeyance with the last few books, that's only because so many of the couples to whom I gave dedications promptly split up, which raises difficult issues for them and for me too, 'specially when reprints come along...)

However. Because I personally live this life where books do hold power, and because I am closely acquainted with so many writers, I have been waiting with an anticipation bordering on impatience for someone to dedicate a book to me. Indeed, I confess, more than once a nasty snarly thought has drifted across my mind: "Oh, c'mon - did you not tell me directly, you couldn't have written this book without me? Isn't that worth a dedication - or at least an acknowledgement...?" Etc. It's a hard world, and very seldom run to my desires.

However. The wait is over. Ta-daa! (Actually, the Amazon entry is b0rked: it's not called 'Angel Hardback' and it's not in paperback, it's actually a hardback called 'Angel', but no matter. That can be fixed.)

What it is, it's the new book by m'friend'n'colleague Cliff McNish, with whom I went to Korea a few years back. He writes contemporary books for kids, with a fantastic edge; like all his titles, this one's set to be a major success. And you open it up, and right there on the frontispiece it says "For Chaz Brenchley". How good is that?

Here's a better link, to Cliff's own page about the book.

Jammy

So yesterday's melon & star anise jam didn't set; which didn't surprise me much, to be honest, I was fairly sure already that I bottled, as it were, and bottled it too soon.

The swift purchase of a sugar thermometer and some vigorous boiling later, I have made two discoveries:

one, that if you boil it up to the recommended temperature, then yup, it does indeed set;

and two, that the setting-temperature of melon jam is also exactly the burning-temperature of same.

Maybe I gave it just a minute too long, in a determined effort not to repeat the mistake of yesterday.

Anyway, I've decided to call it caramelised (you'd fall for that, wouldn't you?), and we'll see what it tastes like when it's cold.

I am in learning-curve land, and that's fine. What shall I make tomorrow?