Here was me, thinking I’d written this yesterday. In fact I did write it yesterday but somehow failed to publish it. Incompetence, I guess.

Last week I addressed a readers’ group in Durham. It was enjoyable: I get to do my Great Author shtick and people seem to appreciate it even though I feel like a phony. I say “seem” because, truly, who knows? Fortunately I associate with folk who are kind enough to lie to me about these things. In the knockabout world of relationships, sincerity can be overrated, and I accept with unstated gratitude that my friends like to spare my feelings as I spare theirs.

If anyone else out there wants to lie to me about how good I am at addressing readers’ groups about the technique of fine writing and the gems of wisdom in my books, I’m open to offers. No charge if I get to go to attractive places and meet people I like.