I’ve never seen Star Wars (I know!) and on my first day of a recent job, I’m sitting next to this very friendly actor. I ask if he has much experience with motion capture. He says, “Yes.” I say “Oh great! What have you worked on?” He says, “I’m Mark Hamill.”

I recently had a dramatic fall on stage in Hungary. It was a massive stage – I was miles away from the audience – and I didn’t expect there to be two monitors in the middle of it. I went completely arse over tit and landed on my chin. First, I felt shock, pain, embarrassment, and then I felt lucky that I didn’t break any teeth or bite through my tongue. I asked for an ice pack for my chin, got up and finished the set.

Pretending I’m happy when I’m not.

When I was doing a masterclass at a theatre and I had to leave the stage because I was about to shit my pants.

I like the idea of being atoms that other people can breathe in, and fabulous worm food.

And when things get tough, this is what you should do. Make good art. I’m serious. Husband runs off with a politician? Make good art. Leg crushed and then eaten by mutated boa constrictor? Make good art. IRS on your trail? Make good art. Cat exploded? Make good art. Somebody on the Internet thinks what you do is stupid or evil or it’s all been done before? Make good art. Probably things will work out somehow, and eventually time will take the sting away, but that doesn’t matter. Do what only you do best. Make good art.

I’ve never read Proust.

The only job I quit was, aged about 23, subediting a “men’s” magazine. My job was typing out readers’ pornographic fantasies. I started wishing people would reproduce by splitting down the middle.

My soon-to-be ex-wife, Amanda. I wish I’d been able to do whatever would have been necessary all the way back to keep us as a unit. Probably the worst thing I did was not tell her how miserable I was, certain that I could turn this around somehow.

Mostly the pain. I don’t want to be trapped in a body that hurts.