Perkins - Spectacles

Sue is perhaps best known for being onequarter of double act Mel and Sue, where she plays the part of Mel. Together, the pairhave bounced, shouted and gurned their way through countless hours of television, mostmemorably Light Lunch and its later counterpart, the imaginatively titledLate Lunch.

Over the years, Sue has worked on a widerange of solo projects, including documentaries on art, popular fiction and history. In2008 she appeared on the BBC show Maestro, culminating in her conducting at theLast Night of the Proms. She has also collaborated with food-critic Giles Coren on theSupersizers series, where the duo power-ate their way through fivecenturies of lungs, livers and testicles whilst half-cut on sherry.

In the last couple of years, Sue hastravelled extensively throughout Asia, driving the Ho Chi Minh trail, exploring thelength of the Mekong River and getting felt up by a Cambodian hermit.

She is a regular contributor to Have IGot News For You, Just a Minute, QI and The News Quiz and has beencrowned, officially, The Worlds Greatest Liar in a hard-fought contest inCumbria.

Oh, and apparently she does some cake showon BBC1.

For Scarlett Jukes

Most of this book istrue.

I have, however, changed a few names toprotect the innocent, and the odd location too. Ive skewed some details for comiceffect, swapped timelines and generally embellished and embroidered some of the dullermoments in my past. I have sometimes created punchlines where real life failed toprovide them, and occasionally invented characters wholesale. I have amplified my morepositive characteristics in an effort to make you like me. I have hidden the worst of myflaws in an effort to make you like me. I may at one point have pretended to have beenan Olympic fencing champion.

Other than that, as I say Ivetold it like it is.

Ive always wanted to be a writer;since I first felt the precarious wobble of a book in my hand, since I first heard thephrase Once upon a time, since I first realized that fairies, wizards andseafarers could transport you from the endless grey of 1970s south London. I was aprolific child. By the age of seven, I had produced several anthologies of poems aboutGod, death and aquatic birds. I was prolific right up to the point I received a B- for ahaiku Id written about a heron. The uninitiated can be so unkind.

As an adult I started writing articles,reviews and glib little pieces for glossy magazines. Id hide away in my room onthe days I wasnt on set and continue work on Raanui and the EnchantedOtter, the intense, magic-realist novel set in Tahiti Id been working onfor the best part of a decade. By the time it neared completion, it was clear that therewas never going to be an appetite for it and that the book world had changed beyondrecognition. Almost to prove that point, I had a meeting in the autumn of 2010 with awell-known publishing house to discuss the possibility of writing something. Idbeen invited to a swanky restaurant in St Martins Lane. I arrived late, asalways, in full wet-weather gear to find a semicircle of unspeakably beautiful peoplesat at the table waiting for me.

Hi, Im Tamara, said theimmaculate blonde to my left, proffering a manicured hand. Im head oftalent acquisitions.

I leant forward to greet her. Dried mudcascaded from my sleeve into the amuse-bouche. Sorry, Ive beenwalking the dog on the heath.

ImSarah-Jane, said the immaculate blonde to my right.Im thepublishing director.

Nice to meet you. Ooh, Iwouldnt hug me Im a little damp around the edges.

Hi, Im Dorcas, said theimmaculate blonde dead ahead of me. Im the managing director.

Hello oops! I said, asa roll of poo bags unfurled from my coat pocket.

It wasnt the best first impressionId ever made. I sat down and panic-nibbled on some artisanal micro-loaves.

So, Sue said one ofthe immaculate blondes, staring at me as if I were a monkey smearing itself withexcrement at the zoo. What would you like to write?

It was the question I had been waiting allmy life to answer. Twenty-five minutes later I finished speaking, having evoked, inminute detail, my proposed epic:

so Raanui finallytames the beast with his uncles amulet and marries Puatea. Its essentiallya meditation on climate change.

There followed a long pause during which Iawkwardly pushed some textures of artichoke around my plate.

Well said oneimmaculate blonde, breaking the silence, thats great!

Really, really great, chimedthe second.

Great! said the third.

This was going so well. All three had saidgreat. In a row! Then came the stinger.

By now I thought we were all having alaugh, that I was among friends. Wed ordered sharing plates forgoodness sake. Id dug my fork into Blonde 1s sweet anchovies.Blonde 2 had tried my avocado tian. I mean, we were mates. In that spirit offun I joined in.

I roared with laughter. Roared. It took menearly a minute to realize no one else was roaring with me. The penny finally dropped they were being serious.

Well, Im sorry, butthis book isnt Angel Dog. There is a dog in it, later on, although shewas far from an angel, as you shall see. I doubt this book will ever disappear in hugenumbers from supermarket shelves, or that shoppers will scuffle over the last discountedcopy in a frenzied Black Friday riot. But neither is it the Polynesian pan-generationalepic I pitched all those years ago. Its something in the middle. Mid-range.Comfy. The sort of book that turns up to a meeting covered in mud and shit having notchanged into something more appropriate.