Someone suggested the other day that I should write a book about AML, and I said that I already had. It made me think about it, so I went back and counted how many I have written, and it’s actually thirty-four in total (soon to be thirty-nine, but I’ll tell you all about that when the time is ripe). Of course, I still have some way to go to catch up with Dame Barbara Cartland; Her Supreme Pinkness published 723 novels.
One of the great pleasures of writing books is when people tell you that they have bought them, and the other day a friend in Alderney sent me a screenshot of the Amazon page that had appeared as he was poised to order my Guernsey NEDs piggy. (Too cryptic: I mean my book on AML for Guernsey non-executive directors, which features a pink pig on the cover.) Amazon, being a frighteningly clever collection of algorithms, will always try to make you buy more, for instance by drawing your attention to what those who have bought the book you are looking at have also bought. And in this instance it seems that purchasers of the Guernsey NEDs piggy are also slapping down good money for bumper packs of baby wipes. And I mean bumper: 672 of the things. Now, I have always found AML terrifically exciting, as you know, but not to the point of needing to wipe myself down.