Few politicians have been so cruelly abused in the media as Ann Widdecombe. But, as Steve Pratt discovers, there is a softer side to the woman dubbed Doris Karloff.

HER size is what shocks. Or rather, the lack of it. Everything you've seen and read about Ann Widdecombe leads you to expect a woman of physical substance. But the figure in the black and white patterned dress that bounds across the hotel foyer, hand stretched out in greeting, is small.

A much-publicised diet, coupled with a change of hair colour, has helped give the novelist MP for Maidstone and The Weald this unexpected look. Her manner, though, is exactly what's expected - that of an enthusiastic, well-organised, no-nonsense head girl.

She's on tour promoting her second novel, An Act Of Treachery, and making every second count. A literary lunch at the Dene Court Hotel in York is followed by a meet-the-public session in Borders bookshop in the city in the evening. In between, she signed books at two other local stores.

The hotel has provided her with a room which means I manage to reach a part of her private life that even TV interviewer Louis Theroux failed to penetrate - I infiltrate her bedroom.

Disappointingly, there are few tell-tale signs of the off-duty Widdecombe apparent in the room. On the bed lies a laptop, the portable word processor she takes with her everywhere so she can write her novels on long journeys.

She's friendly in a businesslike way, although her interview position, shoes slipped off with legs tucked under her on the sofa, is informal. Her relations with the Press are not always so warm. She has been ridiculed and reviled, dubbed Doris Karloff, and cruel remarks have been made about her appearance. She's been treated like Jade in that other House, although TV's Big Brother is not a show you'll catch her championing.

The programme is "voyeurism gone absolutely potty", she says, and takes a huge risk with the psychology of the housemates who have no idea what's going on outside.

"It's the same mentality that makes people want to write about the private lives of anyone, whether it's politicians or anyone else," she says.

Only if the public shows a distaste for such things will it change. She doesn't think it's possible to legislate for it. Her personal approach is to "just concentrate on what's serious and not be fazed by all the stuff that goes on".

She views Big Brother as part of a huge increase in "the cult of personality and the politics of personal destruction", where the Press think they've done a good job if they get a minister to resign.

Widdecombe has no hesitation in pointing the finger of guilt at the media, not through any personal vendetta - although no one would blame her after some of the things that have been written about her - but because of the harm done by this approach, not least as a deterrent to potential politicians.

Her own political interest can be pinpointed to when she was around 13. Her father was a senior civil servant in the Admiralty and therefore not allowed to have overt political views. "He was a Conservative but, because he was working for whoever the government of the day was, political issues didn't come into the house," she recalls.

"I was very impressed by Winston Churchill and had the idea that politicians were people who changed the world. By the time I was 20, I had a more realistic impression."

Nowadays she can understand how the media's scrutiny of people's private lives can deter them from seeking public office. "I wonder why anyone comes into politics now, if they have a record of success anywhere else," she says.

"If you are a 45 or 50-year-old man, have a family and want to give something back to public service, why go into Parliament? Your family is going to be in a goldfish bowl. Why would you do it? I'm in there already, but you have to ask a question like that."

Why, as a critic of reality shows like Big Brother, did she agree to be a victim in the BBC series Louis Theroux Meets? Inviting him and his film crew into your life doesn't seem a sensible idea for someone who opposes the cult of personality.

She wouldn't have agreed if she'd seen his show with the Hamiltons first. On the basis of watching his Paul Daniels programme, she felt okay about letting Theroux into her home if not her bedroom. She was prepared for a degree of mickey-taking and feels the end result was a draw.

Widdecombe likes meeting people, one reason going round the country promoting her books is a pleasure. "I enjoy touring as much as the writing. I'm lucky, some authors don't. I'm used to going round the country as a politician. As a novelist, you get a different audience. It's much more gentlemanly, if you like," she says.

She's one of several politicians - Tony Benn is another - giving An Evening With performances at theatres and literary festivals. "They are the phoenix rising from the ashes of the public meeting. The old style meeting has gone forever. All people see is the screen image and they like to meet you in person once you take the party political element out," she says.

"I always say that it's a literary evening and I'm not going to make any political comments in my address, but if they ask a political question they will get a political answer."

Writing isn't something to which she turned after the Tories lost the election. She's written since childhood. If she'd pursued a normal life and job, she'd have come home in the evening and written. Instead, she did politics at night.

"I've always wanted to write. There's nothing recent about it. What's recent is the opportunity," she explains.

"In 1997, after we lost the election, I went from being a minister, with eight or nine red boxes to deal with, to a backbench MP with acres of time to spare."

She sought advice on finding an agent for the fiction books she intended to write from literary agent Debbie Owen, whom she knew through standing against her husband Dr David Owen for a Parliamentary seat in the 1980s.

Her first novel, The Clematis Tree, was published in 2000. Her new book, Act Of Treachery, was the one she wanted to write first but the amount of research required - the story is set in Paris during the Second World War - made her put it on the back burner.

Writing comes easy. "For a start, I enjoy doing it, which always makes things easier. It seems to flow. I don't struggle an immense amount, although it would be silly to say writing is as easy as falling off a log," she says.

"Writing is a serious hobby in the same way that you might do a competitive sport. It's like Ted Heath and sailing. Writing is hugely relaxing because you disappear into a different world, so it's a mental refresher."

Widdecombe remains, first and foremost, a politician. Having served on the Tory front bench for a decade, she wanted a break from frontline politics. "I've not said I will never go back," she adds.

*An Act Of Treachery is published by Weidenfeld and Nicholson, £12.99.