Is there a fascination about people who write in public? Maybe a narcissistic perception that someone on a train writing things down must obviously be writing about YOU?
Well, maybe. Train journeys can be irritating for all kinds of reasons – but I have to keep reminding myself that there may be something about the laddish conversations, the take-away food odours, or the man beside me who keeps sucking his teeth, which could suggest a character trait or a nightmare sequence in my novel.
The only challenge, I guess, is to hide the observations I’m making in my notebook from the woman beside me with bad breath and fleshy elbows.