We did some rainstomping today. Wellies and all. Fred and Una Pearl like the rain.

Where did Eglantine come from? Was she always there, walking down that corridor in a cool house in summer? Did she find me or did I find her? Does she come from within, from all my collective experiences - things I've read, seen, been, done? Or is she from without, from a kind of collective, intertextual consciousness (now that's deep)? For me writing a book is the same as reading one - I'm desperate to find out what happens next.