Gentle Persuasion

Somewhere in between the glorious victory over the Taliban and the glorious victory over Saddam Hussein, I wrote a short but irritable novel called Terminals, a slightly science-fictional satire about a virtual-reality addict working for a Government-sponsored euthanasia programme as 9/11-like events unfold in the background. I posted an extract here some time ago, and the total lack of yells for more during the intervening twenty-eight months has finally broken through my remaining reserves of modesty. Something else that helped was Henry Porter's article in March, the penultimate paragraph of which insults me personally as a writer by implying that Tony Blair is the product of my own values and at one with my view of society. Buy Terminals here; and if you hate it, blame Henry Porter.