humour

'I can't write here, the chair's too low. The room's too cold. I haven't got a view. I haven't got the right view. That view is so nice it's distracting. I'm hungry (that complaint, at least, isn't location specific). What am I trying to write anyway?'

'I arrived early, determined to take it all in. The sun was high; I looked over crowds in the gardens. I was excited, but not anxious. I could do this, relish this. This was a huge moment. Everything was perfect. Then I decided to enter the festival bookshop.'

'I had my office job, but in the afternoons where once I had written, I sat feeling depressed and lethargic. I tried exercise, baking, gardening and, in knitting, I finally found something that I was even worse at than writing. Then I got knitter’s block. '

'His instructions were clear. On no account was he to read any of the manuscripts. His job was to open the envelopes, riffle through the pages to give the impression that someone had read them, and then put the envelope back in the post to the author.'

I took a blanket and the six scripts I was paid to read to the park. Seven pillows were too much — I couldn’t find seven pillows, let alone carry them. I would lie in the sun and work (for £6 a script but hey, early nineties). My job was to think about the words on the page.

The book I’d rewrite is Tess of the D’Urbervilles. I’d change it so Tess takes the money from Angel Clare and runs. In my version, she goes back to the dairy and starts an ice cream business. I’d give her a second chance and she’d grab it.

John the barber seemed to have just two interests beyond haircuts, if his magazines were any indication — golf, and glamour photography, two subjects that rarely overlap. That was maybe the start of what I referred to earlier as an unconventional literary education.

'I would like... a cat without muddy paws, who definitely likes me, to sit at my feet and not on my notes. I would like gherkin sandwiches to arrive unannounced at lunchtime. I would like flakes of snow to be falling outside the picture window...'

'In today's climate, you are very much expected to do your own marketing as far as possible. People who draw a salary from marketing want to know what marketing you are doing for yourself while importuning you to tell them what they ought to do.'

'The chances are W. G. Grace himself was born with less fuss than my opening paragraph. By lunchtime I had given him a date of birth, an address, two parents and four grandparents. In the process I had become a gibbering wreck.'

'As he grabbed a handful of crisps he delivered possibly one of the most insightful and concise critiques of my work I have ever received. ‘It’s alright. You know. When you’re reading it.’ (It’s possible, dear listener, I exaggerated the Birmingham accent).'