I was 6 when decided to be a writer.  World War II was in full swing, and my father was away in the army, so I planned to cheer him up when he couldn’t be at home, by creating books for him. Books that would make him happy. So I wrote a series of (undoubtedly plagiaristic) fairy stories, illustrated with ‘beautiful’ pictures, each ‘published’ in an exercise book, with essential book furniture such as publisher’s name (the hitherto unknown Closher Books). I knew about self-publishing at an early age.

As I grew older, though, I came the conclusion I needed to know a lot more about Life before I could write more books. On my way round the world, I walked onto the editorial floor of The Montreal Star, and told them I wanted to become a reporter. Cheek paid off, and from then on, I earned a living…