I write in the smallest room in the house at an improbably small desk, shoe-horned in with all the cast-off this and cast-off that I don’t know quite what to do with: children’s clothes long since grown out of; my daughter’s first reading books, that I still cannot bear to part with; a top hat – a joke one – but a top hat nonetheless, gathering dust and waiting for its next joke outing. On one shelf, instead of books, the largest bundle of used padded envelopes it has ever been my misfortune to own. On another, photo albums that belonged to an elderly aunt, full of pictures of people I never knew and have no way of knowing, but will keep anyway because it troubles me to throw them away.
I like my little desk. Here are a selection of images from the past couple of years which tell the story of my work – not just writing my first novel – but some of other writing projects I’ve been involved with too.