The sky was a sparkling succession of black diamonds on black velvet made crystal clear by the blackout.

Sometimes I create a character from a scrap - a mere mention that has been left behind.

It is one of the benchmarks of a culture I always think – the page at which it operates. A good way to measure it is to order a taxi and see how irate local people get if it is late.

At length, when I considered it, I realized that the best of my actions were small things. Picking flowers and cooking food for my mother when she had been unwell, spending an afternoon with the children, sending money to my sister or kissing Henry's tiny head as he slept in the nursery before I left. I thought of every detail and afterwards I felt better. Hellfire and brimstone have never appealed to me and I admit I become easily confused thinking of right and wrong. But I do understand kindness.

I've found myself moved by letters and diaries in archives as well as trashy, summer blockbusters. It's possible to make a connection with any kind of writing - as long as the writing is good.

Books exist for me not as physical entities with pages and binding, but in the province of my mind.

The sky was a sparkling succession of black diamonds on black velvet made crystal clear by the blackout.