This could be a huge mistake, but I am banking on the fact that most of you actually like a read.

I’m not talking about my One Careful Owner drivel, but those chunky, hand-held, completely portable reading devices that used to be so popular.

Remember, just occasionally, when we are not out dodging the potholes, we used to pull up a folding seat from the back of the Sharan and sit around the fire getting lost in a good book?

So now I’m starting the Autocar Book Club. The only requirement for this online organisation is that cars should feature somewhere or other in the text, or at least be the basis of the plot.

I’ve gone all bookish because I have been re-reading The Alan Clark Diaries. First of all it is a pleasure to meet such a snobbish, yet sensitive brute of bloke. He was probably the last truly honest politician we ever had. He also adored cars, from his Citroen Mehari to his SS100, Silver Ghost and his extensive collection of mowers. Any author willing to list his Hayter in the glossary is fine by me. Motoring pops up all the time, in between interminable Whitehall meetings and rather lecherous asides. There’s also a fine cameo by Rowan Atkinson and one of his Astons.