This blog has not been updated much for some time. In fact, I've not done much writing of any sort for the past couple of years: getting divorced, concentrating was difficult, it's taken a while to get back in the swing. I thought a good way to restart — to press the reset button, if I may borrow from Hillary Clinton — would be with the book that ended it all. A while before I stopped writing altogether, the London Review of Books commissioned me to write a piece on Richard Hughes, pegged to a reissue of The Fox in the Attic: I ended up procrastinating so hard over it that the piece became an uneasy joke with the people I knew at the LRB; then came the divorce and the absolute cessation of activity, and finally I admitted defeat.