my book is here

(and so is a balloon)

Chasing Fog is here! 💚

I collected my copy from the Simon & Schuster office on Tuesday —when I was in London recording the audiobook—and it was a little overwhelming to finally hold a finished copy in my hands. I sat with my back against a tree in Russell Square gardens and shed an unexpected tear. I could not be more thrilled with how gorgeous it is.

Huge thanks to my wonderful editor Frances Jessop, and to Pip Watkins for the cover design (book designers really do make magic ✨) I’m so grateful to

Katherine May

Alice Vincent

and Rebecca Schiller for the cover quotes, and to

Jules Williams Photography

for my author portrait (on the inside back flap).

Chasing Fog is out on 29th August, but you can pre-order it right now. If you’d like to read it, and you haven’t pre-ordered already, would you consider doing that? You can click the link, or pop in to your local bookshop, or —for a signed copy with a free foggy postcard—you can pre-order it from my favourite bookshop. If you’re not in the UK, Blackwells offer free international delivery.

I do realise that I’ve been talking about pre-orders a lot lately, but it’s because they really are crucial to the book’s success. When bookshops—or online retailers—get pre-orders, they take notice of a book. Pre-ordering helps a book find more readers, which makes it one of the most meaningful ways that you can support an author. It’s also a lovely gift to your future self!

Writing this, early in the morning in my loft-room study (a few stolen moments at my desk before the heat—and my children—got up), I heard an unexpected roar outside my window. I recognised it immediately as the burner of a hot air balloon; when my boys were toddlers we lived in the city of Bristol, where a hot air balloon festival is held every August, and on still summer mornings hot air balloons would often drift over our terraced house.

I jumped up, leaned out of the window, and watched the balloon float serenely past the end of my road and off towards the distant hills, bright against a powder sky as jackdaws rose up from the beech tree opposite in a startled cloud. I recalled an August morning fifteen years previously when, rising at dawn with my one year old, I stood in our small garden, cradling him in my arms as together we watched balloon after balloon pass by.

In these last few weeks leading up to publication, I find myself looking for signs. The morning gift of a balloon against the blue feels like a hopeful one.

Thank you for reading,

Laura x