I have just finished drafting a novella. This is something of a relief to my mind, because the trio of horrid fictions of which it is a third is due in at the end of April. It’s also a relief because I have been writing about a lady who sees angels, and in consequence, I have had to read reams and reams of stuff about angels on the Internet, and elsewhere. I am getting a little tired of them. I found a white feather yesterday; apparently a sure sign that there is an angel in the immediate vicinity. Or it might have had something to do with the fact that I was on a beach along with 500 seagulls, you never know. What has struck me quite strongly about the numerous angels sites (astrodamus.org, the Urantia Papers, spiritualwellbeing.co.uk, angelhealing.org and so on, and on , and on) is that there seems to be an enormous amount of belief about, quite untrammeled by the need to define what, in particular, you believe in. I was rather taken by an individual whose personal ‘spiritual team’ consists of ‘Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel, Metatron, Sachiel, Barachiel, Jehudial, Zadkiel, Thoth /Quetzalcoatl, Bartoff of the Council of 12, Quan Yin, and the three Chinese Saints’ The Northern Professor observes that not even the Mexican Jesuits at their most syncretic mixed n’ matched to quite this extent. It’s a very rum go, and in the end, despite the occasional hoots of sardonic delight which it all provokes, it just makes you feel a bit depressed.