These are the thoughts of the man who edited the gossip bible for ten years, Heat, helping define celeb culture. On the one hand, he's the ringmaster ushering the acts in the the ring of the media circus. On the other hand, he's Frankenstein designing a monster that gets out of control. But now that he's left it all behind, he's prepared to reveal the working od the machine and maybe reveal a few of the tricks of the trade. Or will it all be sleight of hand? After all, can you really bite the hand that feeds you, and if you do is it more a gentle playful nibble or a give it bone-crunching mauling?

Mark starts with humourous reminiscenses of one of his bigger failure in 1986 - trying to get a scoop on the wedding plans for Ashley Cole and Cheryl Tweedy and failing to find the right venue. He then goes back to the start of his involvement with the magazine. At the time, in Dec 1999, it was failing with sales less that 40,000 copies. As a result of repositioning it from being a serious entertainment mag, to a more irreverent celeb gossip one, which worked so well when he was editor of Smash Hits, he managed to boost sales to regularly over 500,000 during his decade in the editor's chair. An impressive result that regualrly makes the magazine itself a media talking-point.

Over the next ten years, he nurtures that growing celeb obsession with Posh and Becks through to the birth of Big Brother and reality TV stars. Throught out he mentions celebrities they've supported or infamous entanglements which has led to on-going feuds with the likes of Jude Law and Ewan McGregor. He enjoys talking of his triumps such as Gareth Gates' confession he slept with Jordan and George Michael's spat with Elton John.

On occasions he implies he doesn't like some of the programmes or people they exploit - he was never a fan of Big Brother allegedy -but is happy tro play their PR games if it brings in readers. He seems to regard celebrities as a job but not something he wants to embrace, or indeed people he wants to meet. The phenomenol success of Heat is impossible to question, winning an impressive array of industry awards over rival mags such as OK! and Now, including wins for Frith himself. But as you continue reading, there's also a sense that there's a growing weariness with celeb glamour as they turn their focus on anorexic actresses and blemished celebs. Frith's run-in with Jordan and Peter Andrew over an ill-judged sticker of their son, Harvey, followed by the public self-destruction of both Britney Spears and Amy Winehouse, seems to suggest that the game is up and his moral indignation gets the upperhand over editorial acumen. So he resigns from his post just as celebrity culture seems to fracture showing the real portrait of the Dorian Gray nature of the meda world.

Whilst the diary is full of anecdotes and celebrity names checks, it's not a warts-and-all examination, but a neatly nip-and-tuck botoxed account of that world. Frith makes an engaging, sometimes self-deprecating, occasionally self-satisfied voice . He's also generous enough to give credit to his team of contributors too, all characters who had helped fuel the constant energy of the title. For anyone expecting major revelations of their favourite or indeed, least favourite names, they will be disappointed. Frith is careful not to re-offend or create new libel cases with kiss-and-tell stories. The Diaries reminds us what a cultura bible the magazine became as we relive the launch of Big Brother and X-Factor, with TV celebs taking over from film stars with their equally diminishing 15-minutes of fame. It underlines a certain empltiness to the whole industry.

Maybe Frith has flow dangerously close to the celebrity flame himself and decides to escape with his wings singed and sanity intact. On the other hand, if you want some insight into the evolution of a magazine from its editorial policies and circulation figures, then there's plenty to enjoy. It's more a lightly simmering read than a full blown scorching heat.