I am working on a book just now that has lots of rather dark and alarming little stories embedded in it – a girl with a frozen crow as a playmate, a girl who has a helpful but uninvited spider lodging in her ear, a girl who listens to the past, that sort of thing. The stories are a bit fairy story but weird and funny (to me) and they are all based on things that have happened to real people (yes, even the spider). This has made me think a lot about who ‘owns’ stories and who gets to write them and who gets to read them and what about doing both. I am writing this one because it’s the only thing I can do to get the stuff in my head – which does feel quite interesting – out of my head and into the daylight where I can take a good long look at what’s going on. Does that make any sense at all?