‘We like to imagine that it's possible for life to be one eternal summer, and that we have uniquely failed to achieve that for ourselves, We dream of an equatorial habitat, forever close to the sun; an endless, unvarying high season. But life's not like that. Emotionally, we're prone to stifling summers and low, dark winters, to sudden drops in

Melancholy is a solitary pleasure and something I’ve been drawn to for as long as I remember. Certainly, it’s in my novels which are all, to some degree, romantic comedies about sadness and loss, a feature of the long walks, too, the reason why I don’t mind trudging through drizzle along the verge of a B-road or sitting in empty cafes on grey