I dreamt last night that I met Salman Rushdie and he told me that, having read my book, I should get a different career. With which he got into a chauffeur driven car and motored off. The dream would have been far worse if I hadn't been playing a strange cricket/tennis hybrid at the time, which knocked an edge of reality off it. Also, if I was a bigger admirer of Mr Rushdie's books in non-dream life. All the same, though, it seemed pretty low. Although I will laugh about it when I claim a gold in Crown Bowls at the 2012 Olympics or win next year's "Apprentice" or some such...
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