I could tell you how long and hard I thought about writing this story, but you’d probably not believe me. But it’s a period best measured in years. And not even what to write, but whether to write it at all. As you will probably have already twigged from its not exactly modest title, the scope for what follows to be misconstrued is almost limitless.
I guess what’s made me do it now is that we’re on the hunt for a new young writer and I’m spending a lot of my time reading applicants’ submissions. If Ti goes up in smoke tomorrow – as of now a mercifully unlikely scenario, I’m glad to say – the fact that of the three young writers we’ve taken on, a grand total of three have now moved onto full-time jobs in the industry is one of the things of which I’ll be most proud.
But while it would be lovely to take the credit for the career advancement of Yousuf Ashraf, Charlie Martin and Hamir Thapar, they’d never have even got to write for us, let alone anyone else, if they’d not had the ability in the first place. It was they who brought the raw material to us and all we did was refine it and get it seen by others. For want of a less pretentious word, they were already on a journey, and all we did was make sure it neither ground to a halt nor headed off in the wrong direction.
