The Automatic Bestseller Machine

OK, so you want to write a book (well, really you want to have a book published and have it made into a film and sit in coffee shops with a posh notebook and be on telly and have people listen to your opinions on things you know very little about and be given awards, and you've realised that to be published you'll need to write something). Fair enough.

Obviously a bestseller (of the Richard-and-Judy-and-featured-in-WH-Smith's-window type) needs a bestselling title. After all, what's the point of spending ages writing something if it's not going to sell a shedload and net you a six-figure advance.

Where to find such a title though? Easy - pick a number from 1-50 then pick another from 1-15. OK, you say - 15 and 10.

Your novel is called The Costermonger's Whore (now get writing). Next!

Let me explain how this works - every single bestseller of the last 25 years, without exception (well, there are a couple...), has had a title made up of a profession or activity (generally presumed to be male) followed by a (generally female) relationship to that person.

So, pick a profession, pick a relationship and send me 10% of your royalties in a jiffy bag.

3..2..1..GO!

1	Acrobat's		1	Aunt
2	Actuary's		2	Child
3	Advocate's		3	Daughter
4	Archbishop's		4	Grandmother
5	Architect's		5	Herbalist
6	Astrologer's		6	Mistress
7	Astronaut's		7	Mother
8	Attorney's		8	Nanny
9	Barrow Boy's		9	Physician
10	Blacksmith's		10	Step-child
11	Captain's		11	Seamstress
12	Chocolatier's		12	Step-Mother
13	Choirmaster's		13	Twin
14	Composer's		14	Whore
15	Costermonger's		15	Wife
16	Courtesan's
17	Devil's
18	Draughtsman's
19	Farrier's
20	Gardener's
21	Goalkeeper's
22	Haberdasher's
23	Harpoonist's
24	Herbalist's
25	Historian's
26	Industrialist's
27	Interpreter's
28	Journeyman's
29	Librarian's
30	Mapmaker's
31	Midshipman's
32	Novelist's
33	Obstetrician's
34	Organist's
35	Pharmacist's
36	Physician's
37	Pilot's
38	Politician's
39	Psychic's
40	Seamstress's
41	Senator's
42	Soothsayer's
43	Surgeon's
44	Surveyor's
45	Tinsmith's
46	Undertaker's
47	Victualler's
48	Volcanologist's
49	Wheelwright's
50	Zookeeper's

The pen is not mightier than the words

I just filled the first notebook of scribblings for my second novel so have started another - the notebooks in question cost £3.99 each from Ryman. I mention this because when I started writing I was convinced I needed a posh notebook - you know the sort, the type of notebook that lets people 15 feet away know you're writing something IMPORTANT when you're sitting in a coffee shop. Moleskine is the bare minimum acceptable.

I also spent hours in WH Smith looking at pens. Now, don't get me wrong, it's important to have a good pen, especially if (like me) you write your first draft longhand. I did realise, fairly quickly thank goodness, that the time I was spending lurking in shops, fingering the spines of expensively decorated notebooks, would be better spent writing or reading.

The pen I use costs £1.99, the notebook twice as much and I do have a favourite pencil. If you like fancy notebooks then buy one - if you want an expensive fountain pen, go ahead. Don't spend too long on these things though as they soon become displacement activities. Get some paper, get a pen, get writing.

The pen is not mightier than the words.

How I first discovered David Mitchell

In 1997 I moved down to London from the north of England with the express intention of becoming a rock star. While I was waiting for this to come about I sent my CV in to several shops in the hope of finding a job to tide me over - I got one as a bookseller in Hatchard's on Piccadilly.

One of the best bits of being a bookseller, I soon discovered, was the staff room proof table. This was where all proof copies of forthcoming books by (mostly) new writers were dumped for us to help ourselves to. Help myself I did. From this table I discovered what were to become some of my favourite books: Chuck Palahniuk's Survivor, Steve Tesich's Karoo and gems such as The Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman.

One Friday lunchtime, having finished whatever I was reading, I scanned the table for a new book. One caught my eye - among the plain red, yellow and green covers was one featuring a soft black and white photo of a male author I'd never heard of. In the bag it went.

Later that evening I was meeting a friend to go to a gig - he'd brought along a friend of his (a teacher from his old sixth-form college).
'What are you reading?' she asked, seeing me shove my book back into my bag as they approached. I showed her.
'He looks familiar' she said. 'Bloody hell! I used to teach him!'

I let her have a good look at the book (Ghostwritten) and the info on its new author David Mitchell.
'It's definitely him'.

Next time I saw Karla she told me she'd written to David, care of his publisher, and he'd been in touch. I might have made this bit up (it was about 12 years ago) but I think they met when he was next in the UK.

Now, several years and a couple of Booker shortlistings later, David Mitchell is no longer a new author. In fact, earlier today I popped into Spitalfields market to check out the installation that's been put up to launch his latest book The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet.

I haven't seen Karla for a few years now so I don't know how she's doing - seems Mr. Mitchell is doing very well though! I never did become a rock star.

Great writing - 'The Thousand Autumns...' David Mitchell

'When shaving, thinks Jacob, a man rereads his truest memoir'

'Her smile is both nettle and dock leaf"