Amazing what you find when you Google yourself.

Well, not myself, but the name of some old friends.

Because I have ISBNs for my Compleat Works to date, I have an entry in the Library of Congress.

But I just found that I'm in the archive of the University of Glasgow.  And not for my mystery novels. For a few hallowed, halcyon weeks in 1978 after leaving university but before starting paid work, I was in an Edinburgh Fringe show called "Once Bitten," a reworking of a revue that some friends had written and we'd all performed at Exeter College, Oxford. It seems that Glasgow has an archived copy of the program, with all our names meticulously entered.

A couple of my one-liner contributions to the script were included, but any full-blown skits I'd written had been ruthlessly rejected during pre-production, and instead, I wrote the music and lyrics. Dressed as Dracula, I closed the show with the title song, performed as a love duet with my latest victim, played by the lovely Lucy Habakkuk, daughter of Sir John Habakkuk, who was then Vice-Chancellor of Oxford. (Sir John, that is; not Lucy.)

"Some men like watching women disrobin'
But I'm turned on by haemoglobin . . ."

"We can both watch your skin growing creamier;
Your folks will think it's anaemia . . ."

Now, of course, the tables are turned: I'm the impoverished full-time writer with no regular income, while all those old friends are off being extremely highly paid medical practitioners. So who gets the last laugh, eh?