I'm currently sourcing a front cover for my Shropshire book. Helen MacFarlane, Lampeter's finest director of The Fiddler on the Roof, bar Trip, is my artist of choice, but she lives in California. Well, that wouldn't have worked 30 years ago. No chance, It would have been impossible – a ten day air-mail delay each way. I'd be dead before we stopped arguing about where to put the red fox. Now, easy-peasy. I'm even talking to her whilst typing this. And at the same time sending her proofs off down to Bristol so my writing buddy Karin can give them the once over. Only the turning and tilt of the world and our sleep patterns stop this from being in perpetual real time.
Kids take this for granted. I find it properly awesome. Some people would make us an island entire in ourselves. Too late, Nigel, too late...