Straight from the bestseller lists in the UK comes a novel "full of belly laughs and painfully acute observations" ( The Independent on Sunday ), an excursion into the world of a modern male that "delivers its punch lines directly to the heart" ( Birmingham Evening Mail ). Like Helen Fielding's smash success Bridget Jones and Nick Hornby's classic High Fidelity, Mr. Commitment promises to make a big splash this side of the Atlantic as well. Benjamin Duffy is a stand-up comic/temp who, like many men in their late twenties, is forced to face the eternal "To commit or not to commit?" After four years of biding her time, Benjamin's girlfriend has proposed, issuing an ultimatum that sets Benjamin's head spinning. He knows that Mel's the one for him, but should he swap his stellar record collection and fridge full of beer for dinner parties and trips to IKEA? Maybe if Benjamin could swap "till death do us part" with "renewable on a four-year basis" he'd be happy, but the choice-as far as Mel sees it-is all or nothing. Now or never. Mel or no Mel. So after a lifetime as Mr. Irresponsible, does Benjamin have what it takes to become Mr. Commitment ?
Author
I was born in the 70s—the 70s were great. I would recommend them to anyone. I was also born in Birmingham—in my humble opinion the greatest city in the world with the nicest people too. I used to live in London—a great city too. But a bit on the pricey side. I also used to live in Manchester—another great city (although technically I lived in Salford which is next door but that’s sort of splitting hairs). Before I went to university I wanted to be a social worker—I have no idea why. It didn’t last long. After I left university I wanted to write for the NME—I’ve always loved music but it was only when I went to uni that it started loving me back. I can’t play any instruments or sing so writing about music seemed to make sense. My first paid writing gig was for a listings magazine in Birmingham — (Actually my first unpaid writing gig was an interview with Kitchens of Distinction for Salford Student Magazine. I can’t begin to tell you how terrible it was.) I used to write a music fanzine—it was called Incredibly Inedible and I co-edited it with my mate Jackie. We typed up the first issue on my dad’s olde worlde typewriter and then literally cut and paste on to A4 sheets using scissors and glue. Over the three years of its existence we interviewed many bands and artists including: Smashing Pumpkins, The Cranberries, Pavement, Bill Hicks and Blur.
