I can remember the dress that inspired the first line and the line of thought that led to my writing Impersonation. I was in London for a couple of days, and was going somewhere on the Circle Line, when I noticed a blonde-haired, kind-looking young woman wearing a cream-coloured dress with a red and green floral print (at least that is what my memory tells me more than six years on). I would not be able to identify her again now, but as I sat there that day, I wondered whether she would recognise herself if I were to describe her physical appearance in a book.
In my notebook from that day, 1st February, 2006, I scribbled an unrefined first idea for my opening line.
I caught a glimpse of myself today. Not the me of a looking glass or the me as seen when passing a reflective shop front, but the me that strangers see. I saw myself in a book. A mere cameo appearance, but I am aware enough of myself to know the author had once seen me.