I arose this morning to glorious sunshine. Brixton lay before me and a brand new day was mine for the taking. Now it’s dark outside, someone’s removed the old sofa from outside my front door (my only means of identifying which flat was mine) and I have been verbally abused no less than three times by kindly neighbours irate at my efforts to fit my keys into their front doors. If only someone hadn’t stolen the house number last week.
It is a truth, universally acknowledged, that a journalist in posession of any form of technical knowhow should be in posession of a website. So here’s mine. Only I had a little help. This site has been built with loving care by the excellent Rhodri Marsden and is intended to bring together all the various strands of my work floating out there in cyberspace.
I’ll try to update this as often as I can, and do let me know what you think via email (down there, to the right, see?), twitter (@helenswitter), or telepathy – depending on how inspired you’re feeling.