It's an odd experience reading interviews with yourself. Interesting, though. Of course, you know that the journalist will have edited, rephrased or even rewritten what you actually said, but you can't help feeling that there's a special kind of truth in the way someone else paints you, however subjective they might be. Perhaps it is a more reliable barometer of how strangers see you than, say, this diary, which I am writing myself, thinking it more honest this way - though I'm starting to wonder. But it is worrying when they kill off members of your family. I refer to one (very charming) interviewer who mistakenly reported that my mother had died over the summer - in fact it was my grandmother. Alarmed, my agent phoned in a well-intentioned but equally erroneous correction: it was now the turn of my aunt to have her sad demise pronounced. I don't have a large family, so this simply isn't sustainable.