ALTHOUGH I haven't written a novel, I have its title: Joni Mitchell: Who's He?

Destined for the chick-lit section of all good bookstores (well, I want it to sell), it tells the story of a bunch of thirty-something women in Edinburgh, all on various rungs of the relationships/career/kids ladder - and all members of the Joni Mitchell Fan Club.

Each chapter is inspired by a lyric from one of the Canadian songstress' works, which sets the tone for what happens within.

(The novel's title came to me because so many people ask this question when I mention Joni).

Although I have just a sketch of the story and characters, the list of song lines to use is exhaustive. Few artists echo the emotions of the love-lucked and lovelorn as Joni. She wrote from the heart, struggling with the dilemma of whether to fall in love, settle down, have children - or pursue her musical potential. She chose the latter - going on to write and produce some of the best albums in the popular music canon, as well as a poetic soundtrack to life's ups and downs.

Her sacrifice is our gain. Here's just a taster of her talents:

"Everything comes and goes/Pleasure moves on too early and trouble leaves too slow" (Down To You)

"You've had lots of lovely women, now you turn your gaze to me/Weighing the beauty and the imperfection, to see if I'm worthy" (The Same Situation)

"You're in my blood like holy wine/You taste so bitter and so sweet/I could drink a case of you/And I would still be on my feet" (A Case Of You)

Which brings us back to the book. Novelists advise: write what you know. So it makes sense for me to write about Joni. After all, I grew up with her; discovering her at 18 when I went off to university, cherishing each discovered album as if it were a member of my own family. My Desert Island Disc selection is a no-brainer: I'd take my Joni collection, covering as it does everything from folk and blues to jazz and pop.

Best of all, I got to meet her. I was 21 and had just landed my first journalism job, on a community newspaper in the centre of Edinburgh. Joni was in town to promote an exhibition of her artwork.

There was a press preview and I joined a handful of journos following her around the small art gallery as she chatted about her art, her music, her life.

It was fantastic to see her close up. I can still picture her; draped in black and festooned with intricate brooches of silver butterflies. She chain-smoked too... Marlboros, full strength.

Two things she said that day have stayed with me. One was how pop star Prince named his favourite album as Joni's The Hissing Of Summer Lawns (which illustrates the broad church of her fan base) and that after she fell in love in 1982 and married Larry Klein, her music took a different direction. It went all "la, la, la, la, la", she said, almost skipping. In this, she revealed a truth about great art - it comes from a dark place; the darker, the better.

So perhaps Joni hasn't written such poignant songs since the Seventies; and perhaps her voice isn't the instrument it once was, but I can live with that.

If you need reminding of how great she is (or an introduction to anyone who thought she was a bloke) check out her latest CD, Amchitka, a live recording of her benefit gig for Greenpeace in 1970.

In the meantime, Joni, here is my song for you.... Thank You For The Music.

SO Cheryl Cole's finally done the right thing and given wayward hubby the red card. Apparently she did the deed via her mobile phone, telling the Chelsea left back to: "Move out. It's over." The joys of text.