There is something magical about getting up stupidly early in the morning to get on with writing a book that would otherwise still be half-finished in a couple of weeks, at deadline time. The world is still, everyone else is asleep, but, outside, it still looks like daytime. Lately, sunlight has been pouring in, as I sit at the kitchen table with my coffee close to hand and apply myself to the task of getting the hell on with it.

It is much easier to concentrate at that time, because there is ...