I have begun to flirt with the beginnings of a new novel. Before anybody asks, “What was your inspiration?” These are the seeds that you might call “inspiration”: a photograph…my 234 year-old grandfather clock and my dour, gothic antique dressing-table with carved dragons and the head of Miguel de Cervantes…an abandoned amusement park…fairy-tales…magic…love…inability to accept loss…And something mind-numbingly terrible that almost happened to me just yesterday, Sunday 1st November. People are always very quick to point out their bad luck, but I had a guardian angel on my side yesterday. Now, I have to join these dot-to-dot’s to get the full picture. See you in a year.