Television celebrity Alan Titchmarsh finds fulfilment between the covers. JO HAYWOOD chatted to him in a York bookshop

Alan Titchmarsh is a man of simple pleasures. He believes there is nothing that can't be cured by a couple of Weetabix and a sunny afternoon in the garden. He is often accused of being relentlessly cheerful, as though this was some sort of personal failing, but he does admit to having his gloomy days. It's just that his dark side only usually emerges when he hasn't eaten enough roughage.

When we met in Borders caf in York, Alan is looking suitably cheerful in a pink checked shirt.

And even though I am five minutes late and proceed to ramble on way over my 30 minutes of allotted interview time (20 minutes over to be precise), he remains bright, attentive and receptive throughout.

He is in town to sign copies of his memoirs, Trowel And Error: Notes From A Life On Earth, and is preparing to meet the large group of fans already jostling for position on the floor below.

But for a man who guards his private life so dearly, who goes out of his way not to parade his wife, Alison, and daughters, Polly and Camilla, in front of the cameras, wasn't a book of memoirs an unusual choice?

"It's the writer in me I suppose," he said. "I just love to tell a good tale.

"There are parts of my private life that I want to keep private though. There is something wonderful about having little family secrets that would mean nothing to anyone else, but mean everything to you."

Born and bred in Ilkley to loving, quietly encouraging parents, Alan characterises his life as "an unending search for vindication".

He failed his 11-plus and was academically lacklustre throughout his school life. But he was always enthusiastic. A trait that remains intact to this day.

"My daughters sometimes call me Mr Toad because of my enthusiasms - at least I hope that's why they call me it," he said.

Alan was a keen gardener as a child, persuading his parents to let him take over the family plot and, in his teenage years, to allow him to leave school early to take up a job at the corporation flower nursery. He applied to Askham Bryan College on the outskirts of York, but was turned down. So he took the big step for a proud Yorkshireman of moving south, eventually finding himself at Kew.

Now, of course, he is known to millions for his television work, most notably Ground Force and Gardeners' World - both of which he is leaving at the end of the year.

But it is his writing - his four novels and numerous gardening tomes - of which he is most proud.

"I have been writing since 1974, but it was still a real risk when I wrote my first novel," he said.

"I didn't want to be the next celebrity author. I wanted to write something that made the reader want to turn the page. It's what I like to call lilo reading: something you save to read in one sitting on holiday. It's not Proust, but it is not without sensitivity and wit."

His characters constantly surprise him by changing the plot as he writes, and he constantly surprises the critics by continuing to write increasingly successful romantic fiction.

The biggest surprise he found in his memoirs, however, was the powerful feelings they evoked about his late dad.

"I realised just how fond I was of my dad," he said. "To put that down on paper was very hard.

"I read mum the chapter about her (her eyesight is failing), but I couldn't read the one about dad. When I wrote it I sat in my shed (a rather pretty garden pavilion) and wept like a child. Soppy old fool."

Next year will be a busy one for Alan - as if there is ever any other kind.

He will be working on a major new natural history series for the BBC, producing another series of How To Be A Gardener, writing another book, working on the garden at his new house and encouraging primary schools to plant gardens through his charity Gardens For Schools.

"My big aim in life is for every primary school child to know the names of ten wild flowers as well as ten Pokmon characters," he said.

When he was a child, he dreamed of being the next Percy Thrower. Does he think there are young gardeners-in-the-making now who want to be the next Alan Titchmarsh?

"It would be nice to think so, wouldn't it?" he said. "If they are out there I would simply tell them to follow their dreams. Be honest with yourself and you won't go far wrong."

Oh, and have a couple of Weetabix on hand at all times. You never know when you might need the roughage.

Updated: 08:43 Saturday, September 28, 2002