This Much I Know: Francesca Simon, author, 70

There was a huge mystery in my family as to why, growing up, I’d always come downstairs in the morning with a bright blue nose. Eventually the mystery was solved: I devoured books, and part of my reading joy was smelling them. If you wanted to poison me, that would’ve been the way.

I was one of three children, living in Malibu. We lived across the street from Lana Turner and Burt Lancaster, although I had no idea who they were.

My dad was a screenwriter and playwright, my mom was a political activist. We were always renting and so lived in rather fabulous places.

Working for a telephone-answering service was unbelievably stressful. People would scream down the phone at you. The service was before answerphones and mostly used by doctors and prostitutes. There was one in particular I became very fond of – I’d marvel at how many men would call.

Never stop plugging away. The first story I wrote was called Wriggling Fingers. It was rejected by the publisher, whose long rejection letter explained it was a totally unsuitable story for children and questioned what I was thinking? Horrid Henry only became successful after years. It wasn’t even in Waterstones until the fourth book.

I have the best kind of fame. It’s not my face that’s known, it’s my name. I live a totally anonymous and private life. I feel sorry for anyone whose job involves their face.

Do things just for the joy. I started playing the banjo about three years ago. I’d wanted to learn for years. I grew up very purposeful where everything had to have a point. In fact, pleasure can be enough purpose alone.

I fell into journalism. My flatmate had an article published, and when I read it I thought: “Oh, I write better than that.”

Booksellers receive my help from time to time, even when it isn’t requested. If, for some inexplicable reason, my books are not facing out on their shelves as I browse, I may once or twice have delicately adjusted their displays.

Being awarded an MBE was fantastic; even more as an American girl. I’ve never met a writer who didn’t like the Queen [Consort, Camilla]. She reads a lot. She’s fun to talk to about books. She’s very warm. I’ve been doing literacy events with her for 13 years now, and I know her pretty well.

If you say yes to something, do it wholeheartedly. As a writer, you get asked to do things all the time: come here, judge this. It used to make me grumpy. I would accept, then be annoyed. My husband said: “Say yes to less, and give those your all.” It was fantastic advice.

Much to my husband’s dismay, I’m always chatting to strangers. I’m definitely an optimist. I assume everyone I meet is kind, well-intentioned and interesting.

Find the positive in difficult situations. If my plane is delayed for 12 hours, instead of wailing and gnashing, I’ll reframe it as another day to explore somewhere new. When I turned 18 and couldn’t afford to buy any new records for my birthday party. I renamed the party “oldies but goodies night”; a chance to play my old favourites.

Francesca’s first novel for adults, Salka: Lady of The Lake, published by Faber & Faber at £12.99, is out now

Photo by David Levenson/Getty Images