I convoked my The Arcati Trees Society (TARTS) recently and proposed that we pray for all the lovely beeches, oaks and whatnot due to be felled for Nicholas Coleridge’s next novel, The Second Deadly Sin, which awaits an unwelcome birth on March 19, 2009.
This baggy paean to yet more wealth and snobbery - the démodé theme of his oeuvre - will be bulked to a colossal 544 pages: could it be that a sylvan idyll the size of Sherwood Forest maybe turned to desert to satisfy the literary ambitions of Condé Nast UK's managing director; who is also vice-president, Condé Nast International (and the World’s Worst Novelist)?
TARTS is praying every Tuesday at 18.00 BST (local times vary, natch) for five minutes in an international effort to save these doomed trees: such a mystical plea must surely have some effect. If you wish to join us as a honorary TARTS member, then simply get on your knees (you should be well practised at that), open your moist mouth and say these words repeatedly: “Trees, please, Sucellus” (pronounced Soo-kell-oas) – Sucellus is the Gaelic god of forests, among other things – after visualising the words "The Seven Deadly Sins" just the once. Make a mantra of this phrase, and you will not only experience universal joy, but be doing something useful about your carbon footprint.
If that's too much effort then at least acquaint yourselves with how Coleridge promotes his books - see labels. He's a right scamp is Nicky.