I have been expecting you, Mr Bond

I thought of this brilliant way of promoting my books – guerrilla marketing. I catch the bus on the mornings when I don't cycle. The idea is this, see – I leave a book on the bus seat every time I get off. That way, someone will pick it up and maybe read it. They recommend it to their friends. Bingo. Problem is, both times I tried it, it went horribly wrong. On each occasion, a well-intentioned good samaritan picked up the book and gave it back to me. Duh! I did not feel able to explain what I was doing and sheepishly took it back. On the other hand, it's a good way to strike up conversations with complete strangers.

Apropo, I have written a play. It's called The Friends of the Dragon. It's an Edwardian melodrama, set during World War One, which incorporates Devil worship (themes – good versus evil, romantic love, appearance versus reality). If all goes well, we the players (my friends and me) will perform it in my best friend's dining room, for which the play was designed. In preparation, our little players' troupe went to see a play at our local pub theatre, the Brockley Jack, last night – this after an exhausting day at work. The play was so-so, I thought anyway, the actors were brilliant. We talked to them afterwards – we were the only block booking in a sparse audience that night. We explained to them our little project. Much laughter. It was a happy evening, except that I feel like Sisyphus at the moment – a man rolling the same boulder up a hill everyday. Every morning, he starts again. He is the historical character with whom I most identify.

I'm reading the new Bond book – Devil may Care by Sebastian Faulks. Brilliant stuff. The stiff upper lip, macho tone and casually racial stereotyping are just right. It's the under-statement and the little details that make it work. Faulks I think was the right man for the job.