I cast an eye over the TV in my landlady’s living room. On the screen, a handsome cop in a car radioed his partner back at HQ to let his wife know he’d be late for dinner. ‘That’s rude,’ I mumbled, ‘… text her yourself.’ The camera shot widened and, from the shape of the car, I saw the era predated the mobile phone. My landlady snorted. “OK then,” said I, leaving the rent money on an expectant table. She pointed the remote and turned the volume up as I edged out the door. A good narrative depends on the suspension of disbelief. Authors want readers immersed in their story, caring about the characters as if they were real. Plot details that jar, niggle or provoke disbelieving wisecracks are simply no good.