Hey Nostradamus!

That's the title of Douglas Coupland's new book. I've just been to see him at the Book Fest, in what was perhaps one of the funniest and weirdest and hippest (in a geeky kind of way) shows at the fest. He started by introducing himself as Troy McClure. Looking quite conservative in a pinstripe suit (there was a story behind it, but he ran out of time to tell it - one hour was over way too soon) and narrow old-boys-type tie, he then interviewed himself, based on questions he'd been asked in recent email interviews. Quite a good way to get to the meat (or paint the picture you want to, avoiding questions you don't want to answer) without the distraction of a chair/moderator. He put in a good performance on audience questions too, however - someone asked about the greatest coincidence he'd ever experienced, and his response was both elaborate, bizarre and banal (if you can imagine such a combination). There was also a reading from Hey Nostradamus!, one of the most aesthetically-pleasing novels I've seen in a while - nice heavy paper, tactile embossed cover (hardback), and now the added bonus of being signed by the man himself. I'll report on the story once I've actually read it. It's not in the shops till September. I bought another of his books too, "All Families Are Psychotic" - I liked the title. The other great moment in his talk was a mobile phone symphony - before the show you had to find out your neighbour's cell number, and then he asked everyone to ring the numbers, close their eyes, and listen to the chaos.

It's been a bit of a book fest weekend - last night I took my godmother Helen to see Candace Bushnell (Helen has recently discovered Sex and the City, and loves it). Checking out the audience at this gig was almost as fascinating as Candace herself - plenty of SJP lookalikes (although none quite so gorgeous as the real thing), and probably a few Manolo Blahnik's too. Never in the history of the Edinburgh Festivals has there been such a well-dressed (and certainly well-heeled, literally) audience. Candace of course was looking fab (Carrie's style was originally based on hers), and the audience loved her. I couldn't get excited about her new book, Trading Up - not really my thing - but she did have some memorable things to say (possibly paraphrased slightly, which she hates with a passion, but I didn't have my notepad out!): "anything a woman does is cool" and, when asked about the most and least important qualities in a husband, responded that he had to be nice (a quality she had, interestingly, denounced earlier as a kind of cowardice - maybe it's ok in men but not women?), and that it didn't matter too much about his shoes, because you could change those.

Outside of books and the larger-than-life personalities behind them, the big happening this weekend was getting the scooter. We now have wheels, and have had great fun playing in the traffic (except when Andrew almost took out some pedestrians, but he promises never to do that again!). We haven't got a name for the scooter yet. When I said maybe it should be something Scottish, A's immediate response was "kilt". This doesn't have the best connotations (reminding us of those poor pedestrians again). Maybe one of you has a brilliant idea for a name that will suit the wee Peugeot Vivacity...if so, get in touch, and I'll publish the best suggestions right here. Here's a wee reminder of what she looks like (and what A looks like too, with his racy helmet!).