My new novel, The Humans, is published this week. I thought I would tell you some things about it:

This is the book I am most proud of.

It was the first idea I ever had, but it took me eight books to get to this point. This story needed confidence because a) the narrator is an alien, and people might dismiss it because of that and b) I knew it would be emotional to write.

It is a book I will never be able to write again.

It contains all that I think about this weird and terrifying and wonderful existence. It is my attempt to show that through all the pain that comes with our existence, we have things that make all the darkness more than worthwhile.

This is my 80,000 word message to my suicidal 24 year old self. It was me, sitting down to write an advert for humanity. To put down, while I am here and alive, just what makes it so special to be here and alive.

I wrote it between January and June last year. On more than three occasions I got so carried away with the story I literally wrote all the way through the night.

It is now out, in actual existence, being read. And I am about 10 times more excited about this than I was 10 years ago with my debut. In fact, I might just faint.