We have a new couch. If I sit on one end of it, then out of our living room window I can see a tree. It’s up on a hill about four streets away and I don’t really know exactly where it is, but I think it’s in summer.

If I sit on the other end of the couch, I can’t see the tree. The sky that takes up that whole view is clearer for this arboreal absence, but it’s all lessened somehow, as if its blueness has had to be diluted to cover the same area.

Secretly, I am convinced that the tree knows I look at it and moves away because it’s shy.

I realise, just as of course you do, it’s just the different angle I’m looking at that makes this difference, but I’m startled by how much that difference is and I think you might be as well.

Whereas you’d be less startled — if we’ve ever talked above a single minute before — that there is part of me that wants to now make a writing point. I didn’t set out to, I’ve just genuinely been thinking about you and about that tree, and specifically about why it puts me in mind not only of summer, but specifically of summer when I was a child.

Anyway. As I started to write this to you, I got a notification of a comment on a video I’ve made. I can’t quote it to you exactly because that would mean asking you to wait while I went to look up the full text, but it caught my eye both because I read very quickly, and because it said something nice.

“For a writer, you have a great grasp of technology,” it said, or something similar. I’ll go read it properly when we’re done, but I know that was the gist.

Now, the message could be right or wrong about me and if you disagree with it then I wouldn’t dream of arguing with you. But for me, the pleasure of it was this view of me. It’s been a while now, but over the years I’ve been equally pleased to have had other comments like this from audiences or even editors who have been surprised by finding out something about me.

Usually it’s like this message, that someone sees me as a writer and now gets to watch me in a seemingly different field. Previously it’s been people who know me as a technology writer being surprised at my drama or television history work. And vice versa.

I don’t know why I like this or why I suddenly feel as shy as a tree saying it to you, but I think each of these people have chiefly been surprised for the same reason. It’s not that I happen to do two things, say, it’s more that they saw me as this one thing and that was complete, it was enough to convey my character to them. That was a life. And now here was this entire other side.

‘Course, it would be so much better and dramatic if this other side me turned out to be one of wild abandon and high-stakes criminal activity but look at me, look at the way I dress. I may like to think I am these two or more different peoples, but in truth whatever way you look at it, I just spend all my time typing.

It depends how you look at it.