Someone asked me not long after the birth of my first son would I ever have another baby. My expression must have been one of horrified exhaustion and bewilderment. It was too soon to think about it.

Now that my first novel is completed and about to leave home, I feel it is time to add to my literary offspring, but just like planning another baby, the questions spring to mind – Isn’t one enough? Have I got it in me? How well will I cope? What would I do differently this time?

The first book, like some experiences of first time parenting, was a happy accident, a blissfully ignorant foray into I-don’t-know-what-I’m-really-getting-into-land. I took the NIKE approach – JUST DO IT! – slapped all my words and ideas down on the potter’s wheel of my keyboard and then took endless hours shaping and re-shaping.

I thought about Michelangelo’s idea…