Things you might want to know about me . . .

My name is . . . Rob Burton. You probably worked that out from the website address. If we're being formal, it's Dr Rob Burton, although my students in China generally call me Dr Rob. That suits me fine.

​

I grew up . . . mainly in Weston-super-Mare, an English seaside town famous for its mud, its occasionally elusive sea, and an assortment of celebrities including John Cleese, Ritchie Blackmore and, unfortunately, Jeffrey Archer. I escaped eventually.

​

I'm supposed to be . . . a sociologist. I have a PhD in Sociology and a longstanding interest in Marxism, politics, ideology, culture and the peculiar ways human beings organise their lives. These days I'm an English lecturer at Wenzhou-Kean University in China. How a British sociologist ended up teaching academic writing to Chinese students is a story in itself.

​

I came to China . . . in 2011, initially to Nanjing. Fifteen years later, I'm still here. China continues to fascinate, surprise, amuse and occasionally infuriate me. I suspect that's one reason I've stayed so long. The day a country stops surprising you is probably the day you should consider going somewhere else.

​

My biggest dream growing up . . . was to travel. Not to become rich or famous, but to see what was on the other side of the horizon. I've been fortunate enough to do a fair bit of that. And I haven't finished yet.

​

I'm also a writer . . . of academic articles, novels, short stories and occasional observations about life in China. My fiction tends towards fantasy, folklore, mythology, murder and the supernatural. My academic work is rather more concerned with politics, war, media and the way we understand the world. Whether the two are quite as different as they appear is open to debate.

​

My approach to writing . . . is to start with an idea and see where it takes me. I rarely know precisely how a novel is going to end when I begin it. Some writers carefully plan every chapter. I prefer to discover what happens along the way. Which is rather ironic, considering how much time I spend telling my students to make an outline before they start writing.

​

I have a particular affection for . . . the myths and legends of Britain, especially the Celtic traditions, although living in China has introduced me to an equally extraordinary world of dragons, ghosts, spirits and ancient stories. It seemed only reasonable to bring the two together in my novels.

I used to collect . . . Soviet memorabilia and books. Lots of books. Moving to China and downsizing put an end to most of the collecting. These days I travel considerably lighter, although books still have a habit of accumulating.

​

My favourite children's books . . . were pretty much anything I could get my hands on. I used to bunk off school and hide in the library reading. An unconventional educational strategy, admittedly, but it seems to have worked out reasonably well in the end.

​

Some writers I enjoy . . . James Lee Burke, who can make a landscape feel like a living character; Lee Child, whose Jack Reacher novels are excellent company on long flights; and Neil Gaiman, whose Neverwhere reminded me just how much fun the fantastical can be. I like writers who know how to tell a story.

​

One thing I can't stand . . . is the casual racism of some expatriates. If you choose to live in another country, spending your time complaining about its people strikes me as a particularly pointless way to spend your life. Criticise things by all means, but at least try to understand them first.

Something I can't live without . . . cheese. Proper cheese. Preferably something strong enough to make its presence known before you open the packet.

​

Something I've never quite understood . . . is why, after fifteen years in China, I can navigate unfamiliar cities, negotiate the occasional cultural misunderstanding, and deal with the bewildering complexities of everyday life in another language, yet still become ridiculously excited when I find a decent block of Cheddar.

​

And finally . . . I'm now in my seventies, still teaching, still writing, still travelling when I can, and still curious about the world. I have no particular desire to stop doing any of those things.

Except, perhaps, the teaching. Ask me again after I've marked another hundred student essays.