I got back late from Oslo, exhausted as usual, and you’d have thought a quick glass of wine and then blessed oblivion would be the plan. But I couldn’t even think about bed. Next week was the launch. We were about to present our debutante anthology, My Daughter was an Astronaut, at its very own coming out party. The publicity would begin with an interview on the Lesley Dolphin show on BBC Radio Suffolk. I stayed up late reading and re-reading every last story or poem in the book.  I needed to become an expert.

As it turned out the publicity effort really began on Remembrance Sunday. My son Robert was due to parade with the Air Cadets up onto Angel Hill for the laying of the wreaths. Mary and me and Isaac would be part of the huge crowd, applauding the veterans, moved by that brave and beautiful rendition of The Last Post, somewhat shaken by the low flypast of the two Apache helicopters, but overall completely  grateful to be British and free and respectful on that bright November morning.

Before that was a rather less important call to arms but something that had to be done. The photo-shoot. George had been building the website for the book. It needed pictures. Waterstones in Bury have been exceptionally good to us: they would be hosting the launch and were happy to sell the book. Luckily for us they always seem keen to support local authors and long may that continue. For the photo-shoot once again they helped out by rearranging dump bins, displaying posters and putting up with the odd looking bunch getting in the way and making the place seem generally untidy. We tried to be as quick as possible, but it was a jolly little moment for us to savour. Whether the exercise sold us a single extra copy was irrelevant – we were there to share a common sense of achievement before the pressure began.

BBC Radio Suffolk is a friendly place. Tucked into a corner plot by a busy roundabout hard by Ipswich town centre, you could easily miss it. I arrived too early of course but that was fine –a pleasant half hour chatting to the entertaining lady on reception helped me relax. There would be two of us to share a conversation with Lesley Dolphin. I was there by dint of the fact that the title of the book was taken from a poem of mine; Carolyn was there because she’s just so good at these things – that and the fact that the anthology was her idea in the first place!

It was the first time I had ever been on the radio, the first time I’d been the author plugging his book, and if you click on the link you’ll hear the first ever reading of the poem My Daughter was an Astronaut. Up until now I’d read it aloud only to myself. All in all a good experience for me. I’m truly grateful for Lesley’s kindness.

Are all radio stations like this? I expected producers and presenters to be professional but the enthusiasm and the encouragement gifted to guests at Radio Suffolk is quite humbling.

Dress rehearsal for the launch went smoothly on the Tuesday night. I read the poem for a second time. We talked through the programme; I thought the whole thing would be a breeze. And mostly it was.

The guests arrived on time – over a hundred of them. We managed to greet the Worshipful Mayor of St Edmundsbury with the correct form of address. The hubbub of nibbles and wine and chatter had a strangely calming effect. I called the room to order with my best bellow and proceedings began almost on time. The opening words from the Mayor were followed by George’s introduction to the book and to the Writing Group. The audience were attentive, there was no heckling (I tried to keep schtum). Teamwork was the theme. There are 15 contributors to My Daughter was an Astronaut. The writing aside, everyone involved has got stuck in wherever necessary, and boy has it been necessary.

But all this was preamble. The audience wanted to know what the book was like. They’d come to hear readings, and so the readings began. Rose O’Meara’s rendition of the Flint Wall was perfect – her voice cleverly full of the cumulative disappointments of her character. And David Richmond should be acting: the extract from his First World War story Summer Madness left those gathered in stunned silence before erupting in a hugely deserved burst of applause. How could I follow that?

Time for another first. Part of the reason I’d wanted to read My Daughter on the radio would be so that I could get that first read done in a small room with only a couple of people present.  And that wasn’t because I was worried about being word perfect. I was worried in fact that I might not even be able to get through it at all. At the launch, in front of one hundred people, most of whom I didn’t know, I read it again. The first for me this time was in allowing my emotions to get the better of me in front of a large audience. I had to force myself to read the last line - and then I ran for it.

Luckily Nigel George stepped up immediately with the Utah Gun Prison and Pizza Company. His outrageous blend of humour and violence always makes me feel guilty for giggling so much. Leave ‘em laughing they say, so he did.

There you go: a week of firsts.  First radio interview, first reading for the poem, first book I’ve ever published, first launch party, and the very first time I’ve truly lost it in public.

Next event we do I’m going to read something else instead.