The real attack on French culture here is the parliament's decision to reinforce the state of emergency, by no way a banner for tourists or French citizens alike. We look at France as the birthplace of modern democracy, and the country's founding call for liberté is something we should not take for granted the world over.
So how will I do this? How will I achieve 50,000 words by late evening on Saturday 30 November? The short answer is, I do not know. I could plan everything to the literal letter, but that would feel too much like a military operation to me. My plan is to write, simply write. I intend to let my imagination run wild and hope to write something every single day of November.
For nearly eight years now people have stared at my face. In the street, on the tube, in shops, while I'm eating, it doesn't matter where I am, they can't help it. Some point, some laugh, most look on in admiration and sometimes, I'm sure I've seen onlookers weep steamy tears of joy when they look at me. The reason for this reaction is neither a grotesque affliction or that I resemble Brad Pitt. It is quite simply the Mo that adorns my face, big bushy and proud, combating prostate and testicular cancer by raising funds and awareness for Movember.