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Two of my friends have written novels now, both of them have written several in fact. One of them did get published with his first novel and in fact had some success - Kindle top ten at one point. The other couldn't get anyone to publish hers so she self-published.

We've all heard the theory that everyone has a novel inside them. My problem is this - my friends' books are shit. I mean really, dreadful. They both want me to write reviews for them, but how can I when I literally cannot think of a single good thing to say about their books? Suggestions please!

Same old, same old

Ah, another day and another opportunity for DH to tell me what is wrong with me and with our marriage. Well, I suppose it had been about a fortnight so it was due. Always such a joy.


I think the cruelest thing you can do to someone is to give them false hope. Show them a glimmer, a crumb and then snatch it away again. Seems to be something men in particular do. It is cruel and I'm not sure they realise it.


I went to 5 schools and 3 universities. I have lived in lots of towns, 2 countries. I have moved job lots (lots!) of times. But it strikes me how few of the hundreds of people i have met that I am still in touch with. I'm sure I'm not unique in this, but it saddens me a little.

Would dearly love to catch up with people from Caythorpe, KGGS or either of the first 2 universities. Same with people from Blackwell's or the Sekundarschule. I know I am not an easy person to like but surely some of those people would be potential friends now. Would be lovely to reminisce.

The roads untraveled

Facing my own terminal illness brings with it some interesting thoughts. Recently I have been thinking about the "roads untraveled" in my life - all those options which were open to me and which i chose never to take.

I remember very clearly the first time I felt this. It was choosing my A-levels. I thought - but if I choose only 3 subjects, then I am setting my life on its course. I am closing other doors, which might have been really good doors, forever. I didnt like that feeling and I still don't.

All those untraveled roads. Things I said "yes" to - and things I said "no" to. How different might my life have been if I had just said the other word even one time?

Thinking about all this has led me to the startling revelation that I have a fear of commitment. Not to people - I am the most loyal (persistent!) person when it comes to interpersonal relationships. Or most of them. Actually, the more I think about this, the more I realise that is only true for a select few of the people in my life. I seem to have a fear of committing to something (or someone) because WHAT IF? I hate the idea of closing doors and missing out on something great. I have a kind of FOMO about my own life!

I really hope there are parallel universes where other versions of me made different choices and got to live out all those possibilities. I wish I could keep going back and doing that, taking a different path, just to see.


Home has always been very important to me. My parents' approval really mattered. So I always brought new friends or boyfriends home to meet my folks as soon as possible. Boy, did that scare some people off!! 😂

Anyway, there was one person who I didn't ever take home to my folks. Didn't want to. Which was weird. But I think it was because this one was so important. If my parents didnt like them (or vice verse) then that would have been a problem. I wanted this person in my life, forever. Just too important. I think that person got a bit miffed that I never introduced them to my parents. What a shame they didn't understand why.



I know it sounds incredibly shallow, but one of my favouritest things ever is going out for lunch. I just love it. It is something I only get to do a couple of times a year now. So any time you want to take me out to lunch, I'm there! Nothing better - a glass of wine, great company, delicious food. Just heaven!



I know it was politically an awful year, and of course the subject of a rather famous book. But 1984 was also the happiest year of my life. Not sure why, really. Not much happened to me. I started secondary school. That's about it. But the music, the atmosphere, I felt really carefree and happy. Sitting here now watching a programme about 1984 Top of the Pops. Loving every second! Them was indeed the days.