I’m well overdue with this article, and I suspect John McLaren is never going to speak to me again. Trouble is, I’m on a frenetic reading jag and its mainly McLaren’s fault.

On the Thursday of Writers’ Week, he beguiled me into the bookshop near the Writers’ Tent and in no time at all I emerged buckling at the knees under the weight of a carton of books written by many of the writers I’d listened to and been impressed by during the week. I couldn’t get all the books I wanted because the book shop had sold out of some by then.