How to cheer up

No sooner had I vanished into gloom and depression over the state of the outside world yesterday than my own situation brightened suddenly and considerably. My wonderful agent produced the news that I've got my first overseas deal: my second novel, due out with Hodder next spring, has been snaffled for translation by a publisher in Amsterdam! We cracked open some bubbly.

Meanwhile the progress of RITES OF SPRING continues to be encouraging: The Book Place has picked it out in its choice of new popular fiction. It's also in the Amazon 3-for-2 special offer, rubbing shoulders with many wonderful books including two of my recent favourites (Sarah Dunant's 'The Birth of Venus' and Diana Evans's '26A').

Official paperback release date is now less than two weeks away...

Last but not least, I've just signed a second two-book deal with Hodder. Op.3 is already taking shape. And Op.4? Well, watch this space. The pace is intense - a book a year - and that one will probably be happening before you can say "Joanna Trollope".

Dear friends, please forgive me for blowing my own trumpet today. I've spent my whole life working towards becoming a 'proper' novelist and I'm still finding it difficult to believe that such an amazing chance has come my way.

If this man was a tenor...

...he'd probably be Juan Diego Florez. The effect is a little similar. While Nadal was mopping his brow, obsessively tossing one ball aside and giving grunts that could have been heard across Wimbledon Common, Federer stayed as cool as a glass of Pimms, delivering shots so perfect that they could make your heart sing just like Florez's high notes. Even mine, and I'm not the sportiest gal on the globe.

Watching the Wimbledon final live was totally different from watching on the TV. First, we weren't prepared for the noise when the players walked on, being used to concert applause from 2,000 rather than sports applause from 13,000. Next, the small screen simply can't convey what it must be like to have a 130-mile-an-hour serve flying straight for you, or what a feat it truly is to return some of those high-note shots. During some of the rallies, I had to hold my breath. I'd never expected to be so riveted. At this level, sport does become an inspired art.

Having seen Wimbledon on TV so many times, it was great to discover that it's real; the atmosphere was fantastic, the band of the Royal British Legion was an added treat, and it was, I must say, all extremely civilised. A fantastic experience.

The crowd backed Nadal, and he certainly put up a good fight, at least after the first set. Federer wasn't infallible, but at least that proved he was human. Above, Federer serves for the championship, photographed by the Tomcat (who maybe should have a new career as sports cameraman).

Advantage Jess & Tom

It's the biggest sporting day of the year - possibly of the decade - with the World Cup Final tonight and the Wimbledon Lawn Tennis Championship men's singles final this afternoon. And by some mysterious quirk of fate, Tom and I are GOING to Wimbledon!!!

Will report back after the event. Off to buy provisions now...

There's only one thing better than a violin...

...and it's a tenor voice like this.

Juan Diego Florez's latest album, Sentimento Latino, is out on Monday. If you like sun-drenched South American songs dressed up a bit and sung by a voice so honeyed and radiant that it's like magnetised massage oil for the soul, order it now.

A difficult morning in London

Today is the first anniversary of the 7 July London Tube bombings. A two-minute silence was held at King's Cross and most of us, thinking back, are feeling sad, defiant, angry and resiliant.

We are proud of this wonderful, vibrant, multifaceted city with its millions of inhabitants of every colour, race and creed and will never forget those who died that day.