I'll be frank. I don't like talking about my work in progress. In this way -- and perhaps a few others -- I am rather like those tribesmen from Papua New Guinea who believe that photographers who snap their portraits steal a part of their soul.

Writing books -- like all creative endeavours -- is about energy. The first spark of inspiration -- that flicker of electricity -- must be protected and nurtured so it can grow in strength. It's that strength, that vital energy, which propels the author, empowers the text and -- in due course -- enages the reader. As I crouch over the tiniest flame, carefully feeding it twists of paper and twigs of ideas, you will understand why I must stay stumm.

But I will give you a clue (of course). The next book begins in a city which always excited me. It's the place where I started my creative journey; where I worked on movies with Dietrich and Bowie, and returned to ten years later to write my first book 'Stalin's Nose'. To whet the appetite here's a couple of pictures from those days -- including one of callow youth...