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A peculiar feeling of pointlessness and sadness while standing in Waterstones. Too many books, not enough time to read them. And how do you find the good ones? Shuffled over to Oxfam and held Kazuo Ishiguro’s The Unconsoled in my hands. A bargain, at £2.99. But I let it pass me by. Also pondered on Howard Marks’ Mr Nice, but thought better of that drug fuelled gibberish. Oxfam in Hull is staffed by a freakish breed who make strange animal noises while you’re browsing the shelves.

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