Before I can stop myself, I say, “You realise I’m not a real reporter and I don’t have a camera, right?” and regret it instantly.

Tanyana stiffens, and frowns. She’s gone and got all dressed up in the tailored, navy blue jacket she used to wear as a circle centre. Her short blonde hair is slickly styled, the small bear’s-head badges on her shoulders are polished to a shine, and she’s even wearing lipstick. I narrow my eyes at it. My lipstick.

“Of course.” She brushes imaginary dust from her sleeve, where it bunches around the suit band on her wrist. “I just thought one of us should make an effort around here.”

I glance down at my pyjamas. I suppose that’s fair enough. “Right.” I gesture at the chair I’ve borrowed from hubby’s study. “Please sit. Let’s get started.”

Tanyana rolls her eyes, but complies. “Well, Mrs ‘not a real reporter’, I’m here. So interview me.”

“Welcome, Tanyana Vladha and thanks for agreeing to be interviewed today.”

She lifts an eyebrow at me. “You’re welcome.”

“Now, you’re the main character from my novel, Debris. At the beginning you’re an architect and a powerful pion-binder. But an accident strips you of your powers, and you’re forced to become a debris collector, cleaning magical garbage from–“

“Is this an interview, or a blurb? Because — and I could be wrong here, being from another world and all — I thought interviews involved asking questions.”

Maybe this wasn’t the best idea after all. “Actually, this is a blog post. So I’m trying to set the scene for anyone who hasn’t read the book–” she looks like she’s about to argue “–so why don’t you set the scene, then? What do you think the book is about?”

She turns slightly and sits up straight, as though she’s addressing the camera that isn’t there. “Debris is my story. In it, I lose everything I’ve worked so hard for — my pion-binding skills, my status, my income, even my home, and become   lowly, dirty, underpaid debris collector. But I’m not about to take this lying down! And even as I fight to find out what really happened to me, even as I struggle to come to terms with my new life and new body — or what’s left of it — I find so much more. Riches aren’t all kopacks and fancy apartments, you know. Riches can be found in friendships and, perhaps most importantly, in having a purpose.”

That makes me smile. I suppose Tanyana really did learn something along the way. “So, what’s your favourite scene in Debris?”

“Any of the scenes when I’m sleeping, or eating. Or the rare times I’m not actually fighting for my life. Yeah, I like those.”

Can’t blame her for that. “Are you looking forward to book two, Suited?”

She gives me a horrified expression. Something about it makes the scars down the left side of her face, the ones she got when she fell from Grandeur at the beginning of the book, stand out even more. “Looking forward to it? Are you joking? You know what I have to go through in that bloody book, you wrote it! I’d have to be an idiot to be looking forward to that again!”

“Well yes, but remember all those riches you got from the first book. You had to earn them, didn’t you? Lose everything to gain even more. What’s so different about the second book?”

She’s shaking her head. “We’re talking about the same book, right? Look, I know your opinions on book twos. You believe in ‘The Empire Strikes Back’ model where it all goes to hell!”

I cough slightly. “Well, yes. Anyway, moving on. Let’s talk about Debris again. Is it strange to think that people you’ve never met, people on the other side of the world, are reading your story?”

“It’s a bit odd, yes.” She shrugs. “But let’s be honest. I’m just a figment of your imagination. You’re the one who’s been freaking out about that for the last month.”

“Right. Finally, give the people out there an idea of what life is like for a main character in one of Jo’s novels.”

She turns to that imaginary camera again. “Okay people, listen up. In case you hadn’t worked this out already, life as a main character in one of Jo’s novels is hell. Sometimes literally, too. If you’re ever in a position to become such a character — and I’m talking to the imaginary people in her head right now too! — run away. Don’t think. Just RUN!”

“Oh hey, come on now! What about riches and–“

She’s out of her chair, she grabs the imaginary camera brings her imaginary faced right up to its imaginary lens and shouts, “Don’t listen to her! Run! RUN!”

I sigh. “I think this interview is over. Thank you for your time.”

“RUN!”