BY LORNE JACKSON
CHARLOTTE Ward is a lady with a very special power.
She has the ability to mould men until they are not only manageable – but eminently marriagable.
Just a few dates with Charlotte is all it takes to turn a sofa-slouching slob into the kind of choice chap that most women would love to escort up the aisle.
There’s only one problem.
Unlike the best romantic comedies, Charlotte doesn’t tend to hold onto her fellas.
After whipping a man into shape, she eventually splits with him, only to discover he’s settled down with the very next girl he meets.
In other words, she charms chaps, chastens chaps... then chases chaps.
Now the girl-about-town has written a book about her escapades, Why Am I Always The One Before The One? - One Girl’s Quest To Bag Mr Right.
The idea for the book came to journalist Charlotte when she was having a boozy chat with a gal pal in a bar.
“You know what girls are like,” she says. “We were talking in the pub, and I told her all about my track record with blokes.
“How I managed to change them, get rid of their bad habits, then they’d immediately settle down with the next girl they dated.
“My friend thought it would make a great article.
“So I eventually got it published in a magazine.
“Then a publishing house approached me about extending it into a book.
“That was really exciting because I’ve always wanted to write a book. For a while I’d been working on a novel, so this seemed like a great opportunity.”
The book offers women plenty of useful advice about bagging nice blokes, as well as quite a few handy hints about avoiding dodgy dudes.
It’s also a deftly written comic odyssey.
Charlotte has borrowed friends’ anecdotes while also revealing the many ups-and-downs that have taken place in her own personal dating diary.
And many of her mishaps with miserable misters took place in Birmingham, where Charlotte lived and worked.
Until 2004 she was the showbiz editor of the Sunday Mercury.
So what are the 30 year-old’s recollections of Brummie fellas?
For a minute she is silent, obviously thinking long and hard about all the wonderful qualities of the Birmingham male.
Then she says: “Mullets.”
Hold on a cotton-pickin’ moment... mullets?
“Oh, yes. Mullets,” grins Charlotte. “I definitely remember a high percentage of rather unflattering mullet haircuts in Birmingham.
“And too many blokes with highlights in their hair.
“But I did find them very nice and approachable, not like London men.
“I always found that if you wanted to go out, have fun and meet nice people, it was a lot easier in Birmingham.”
Charlotte is now based in London, where she has even met a man who just might be Mr Right – as opposed to Mr Right Out The Door.
In her book she calls him The Beau, since he’s shy and doesn’t want a spotlight on his relationship.
However, Charlotte is willing to say The Beau has managed to teach her a thing or two about relationships.
“I’ve always thought it’s possible to change a guy, but you shouldn’t be too heavy handed about it,’’ she said.
“However, working on my book I also learned a lot about myself.
“Sometime I’m not the ideal girlfriend! I can be hormonal, short-tempered and I’m always too quick to stress about things.
“But things are going well with The Beau. He’s a calming influence on me, and he’s also really stubborn.
“For once I’ve not been able to change my boyfriend.
“But looking at the track record of what usually happens after I’ve changed a bloke, maybe that’s actually for the good!”
• Why Am I Always The One Before ‘The One’? One Girl’s Quest To Bag Mr Right (Headline) by Charlotte Ward is out now. To order a copy for the special price of £7.59, inc FREE p&p, call Mirror Direct on 0870 07 03 200 or post a cheque/postal order to, Mirror Direct PO Box 60 Helston, Cornwall TR13 0TP or simply order on-line at www.mirrorshopping.co.uk

I'm a man hater!

Well, according to a website forum dealing with misandry* I am a feminist man-basher after been pictured in the Daily Mirror "standing victoriously on a man's back".

www.mirror.co.uk/lifestyle/yourlife/...

"I wouldn't normally mind this sort of thing if the general public could think for themselves," writes the outraged man. "But I just don't have that kind of confidence in people anymore.

"They look to the skies for a magic omnipresent being to solve all their problems, they squander all their money to poor quality clothing whose price inflates faster than anyone's wages, and of course they believe all the feminist lies and propaganda."

Blimey, and all I offered was, "Top Tip: Buy him a Sarah Harding calendar... he's bound to look at it."

Meanwhile I've been attempting rather haphazardly to set up pages on Bebo and Myspace to promote the book.

In hindsight perhaps I shouldn't have attempted this on a Saturday eve after boozing for several hours at a friend's birthday lunch. It was only on Sunday morning I realised that somehow I'd allowed Bebo to email my ENTIRE googlemail address book inviting them to join my page, (basically that's everyone I've EVER emailed in the last 18 months).

So that includes people who interviewed me for jobs I didn't get, my mortgage advisor (who then called to remind me about taking out income protection), the Emap accounts department and a North East councillor I once hounded for quotes because she'd worked with Osama Bin Laden's daughter-in-law. Nice.

Also a friend emailed me today asking if the link he was sending me was for my book. Turns out if you search for 'Charlotte Ward' on Amazon the first book that comes up is by my artistic namesake who penned a book called, wait for it… The Illustrated Book of Phalluses.

"These phalluses are fortunate in receiving the attention of a real connoisseur, Charlotte Ward…" the review reads.

Fan-bloody-tastic. So everyone will now think I'm the one before 'The One' because I'm too busy sketching pictures of knobs.

(* Misandry is the hatred of males as a sex, as opposed to misogyny, the hatred of women)

My first bit of press coverage - woo hoo!

When it was suggested that I be photographed for my 'man-training' feature in killer high heels with one foot on a male model's back I had my reservations.
With my pathetic 'bambi' legs I'm pretty haphazard in flats, let alone ankle breaking four inch heels. The model, Ross, looked less than thrilled as I wobbled over him, trying to balance on one leg and threatening to puncture a vital organ with my stiletto.
Thankfully he escaped unscathed...

www.mirror.co.uk/lifestyle/yourlife/...