I shall try to define myself in a sentence with a pithy comment at the end:
I'm just an English bloke who lives in Canada after marrying a Canadian lady he met while living in Japan. Yeah, that old cliché.
Maybe it’s time TV detectives took a brief sabbatical anyway. There surely aren’t many interesting defects left for them to struggle with. We’ve had alcoholism, depression, OCD … What’s next? Spontaneous human combustion? Some friends and I once had an idea for a series about a detective who could only tell if people were guilty by having passionate, tender, drawn-out sex with them, a skill that backfires when his own father becomes the prime suspect.