Always convinced that people who listed their titles and achievements in Who’s Who were fundamentally nuts, I was slow to arrive at the conclusion that one might as well succumb, because the alternative to boring oneself stupid through assembling the information was to be bored senseless through being continually asked for it. On top of that aversion, I loathe seeing “quotes” carved out of my work. Even when they are not mangled in the transcription, they are falsely emphasised by the lack of context. But if somebody is manufacturing lists of them, one might as well give access to the lists. There are limits to cooperation, however. While I was still a television critic the first time round, back in the 70s, I was already getting offers from unknown would-be writers by which they would collect all the interesting statements out of my books for me and publish them as a single book, on the cover of which my name would share top billing with theirs. The attention of such fantasists was more than enough to keep reminding me that fame, on however small a scale, was a dangerous condition. On the other hand I simply love doing featurettes like “Writer’s Room”, for the story it tells. Which, of course, is my story, so I suppose I am a narcissist after all.