I’m a traveller. By which I associate with a group of people who I’ve begun to see more and more as I get older. Generally they all call themselves “global citizens” although I find the phrase utterly pretentious and in need of a slap. I find my simpler definition more apt: a traveller seeks experiences to influence their opinion, without allowing their opinion to influence their experiences. It could be snappier; I know. Let’s stick with “traveller.”

She (yes, this book is a she to me, like boats, motorbikes and my snowboard) – she is planned out, mapped, my characters are all alive to me, and I roughly know what I want to happen. That doesn’t stop everyone from running around doing different things to what I expected – but that’s the same as the last book, so I suppose it’s ok. The problem is the sense of it.