Hitler: Thank you, whoever you are. I think you just saved my life. The Doctor: Believe me... It was an accident.

Like most writers, I write about what has happened to me as that involves the minimum amount of research.

I don't think, generally speaking, people become writers because they were the really good, really cool, attractive kid in class. I'll be honest. This is our revenge for people who were much better looking and more popular than us. I was a bit like that, I suppose.

When you're surrounded by friends and exes, there's a whole lot of stuff that starts crawling out. But however serious and traumatic those experiences may be to the participant, to the onlooker they're hilarious.

People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but *actually* from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint - it's more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly... time-y wimey... stuff.

Fascinatingly confident, rude people are great.

So is this how it works Doctor? You never interfere with the affairs of other peoples or planets, unless there are children crying?