As if deliberately plumbing the depths of self-indulgence, and seeking to alienate you good people, I thought I’d share the following early example of my writing, which I found yesterday when clearing out some boxes of stuff.

The dates on the back suggest it’s from when I was five or six years old, so please excuse the mangled conjugation of the verb ‘to eat’:


I think we can all see what young me was aiming at with that picture, but I think I owe an apology to the estates of both Bram Stoker and Bob Kane.

And, very probably, Freddie Mercury.