Seems like Milan Kundera's fame hasn't dimmed in recent years. I wrote up a post on his recent article in The New Yorker. Soon afterward, while surfing my regular blog sites, I came across a plea by Matthew Tiffany of Condalmo (who shares my enthusiasm for Murakami) for a copy of the original article. So I offered to post it to him, giving my new home photocopier a good workout. "You're a prince, a man among men," he e-mailed.

A few days later, Lena asked for permission to translate the post into Russian for a website she runs that specialises in the Czech novelist. I agreed, but then offered to send her a photocopy of the article. More work for the grey box sitting glumly — waiting for work to do that I haven't always got — on the corner of my new pine-wood desk. I mailed it off today.

I feel like a distribution service: one envelope to Maine and one to the Ukraine. Each one cost me $1.85. It's a small price to pay to promote the ideal interests of good writing.