Listen, I’ve no clue how to start this but I’m burning to tell you so can you just grab a biscuit and we’ll crack on? Last Saturday I was at the Big Finish Day in Barking and I was signing autographs.

Maybe you should get two biscuits.

Plainly, I was not alone on that day and I’m far from the first person to squiggle on papers and if you know Big Finish, you know this was Doctor Who. And you certainly know just as well as I do that Doctor Who somehow comes with a magnifying glass: I was included there because of the way the lens of Doctor Who burns into so many of us.

There were some 60 people signing and I don’t know how many guests: a few hundred through the day? I’m rubbish at estimating anything. But I did have a quick gander through the guest list and without question I had done the least of them all: so far I’ve only had one 25-minute Doctor Who audio episode made. It turned out to be popular, but it’s still only a one-off 25-minuter. I’ve got a four-parter coming out next year so hopefully if I get to go to the next one I’ll feel less of a fraud.

But as frauds go, I am struggling to remember a day when I had more fun. It is a hell of a boost having people asking you autograph your writing, it’s even more of one when they’ve come seeking you out. I was happy just being one more person on a table that people worked their way along. To be asked if I’m the William Gallagher they’re looking for and having to answer that no, I’m not the man who wrote Lark Rise to Candleford or used to play in Oasis, is a treat.

More than that, it’s a delight and I won’t pretend it isn’t.

But if you knew me in my podcast, you’ll know what I really liked, what made this a stand-out day for me: I got to natter to people. Oodles of people. Every body up and interesting and enjoying themselves. I was going to say that equally included fans as well as other writers, but there’s not a lot of difference: in breaks I’d nip into other autograph sessions and be a fan myself.

So many struggles in my head, though: from why would anyone want my autograph – I’m not kidding, I don’t understand autographs at all, let alone mine – to why I might think you’d want to know about it. I don’t. But I’m having such a bubbly time I had to tell you.

So. Spill. What’s happening with you? I want details.

William