The book was at a reasonably high position on the New York Times... before I was in the country. I thought it would be an interesting experiment to see if my presence here would push it up or down.

To see the best before I have properly begun would be somewhat premature.

It was like being given a maths problem when your brain's exhausted, and you know there's some far-off solution, but you can't work up the energy even to give it a go. Something in me just gave up.

Now when I look back to the Guildford of that time it seems far more exotic to me than Nagasaki.

I saw a new world coming rapidly. More scientific, efficient, yes. More cures for the old sicknesses. Very good. But a harsh, cruel, world. And I saw a little girl, her eyes tightly closed, holding to her breast the old kind world, one that she knew in her heart could not remain, and she was holding it and pleading, never to let her go.

Memory is quite central for me. Part of it is that I like the actual texture of writing through memory.

The evening's the best part of the day. You've done your day's work. Now you can put your feet up and enjoy it.