The words every author longs to hear.

I've just come back from a trip to my local bookshop, Prospero's Books in Crouch End. I was actually browsing with intent (to buy, honest), but Mary the manager came up to me and said, 'Your book's doing very well, you know. We've sold out twice and are expecting the third order in this morning. That's ten copies, which is very good for a hardback.' (Over a time scale of two weeks since publication.)

There's now a gap in the window because she sold the copy that was there this morning.

Naturally, I bought a book. It seemed the least I could do. I especially wanted to dispel any impression that I was there checking up on shelf dominance and the like. Which of course, I wasn't.

At Mary's recommendation, I picked Malcolm Bradbury's 'To the Hermitage'. It's described on the cover by Auberon Waugh as 'the funniest book ever written'. That's some puff.