Last week I had to face the truth. My trusty computer, on which most of my books have been written, was suffering from a very bad case of old age. I could no longer ignore the creaking sound as I urged it into life each morning. I couldn’t pretend not to notice how often it went on strike, for no reason that I could determine. I couldn’t overlook the fact that surfing the Internet was like wading through porridge.

And so I took a huge step – I bought a new computer. At first, it felt like a betrayal, and I didn’t even try to control my anger when I couldn’t figure out how exactly to do something in the new, 21st century way.  I regularly switched back to my old computer, and revelled in its familiar, quirky ways.

But today, something terrible happened. I switched on the old computer, to check something in an old file, and all of a sudden, my trusty old computer felt strange and unfamiliar. The mouse felt wrong, and I struggled to find what I needed.

It looks that, despite myself, I have moved on.

I wonder if I will write better books, on my new, better computer?

Watch this space!