I've tried to post this blog three times, but Internet Explorer kept refusing me. Surely it wasn't a telepathic reaction to my thoughts? No, it must have been the shock of its own memory and all the things it learns.
I've been asked about writing a memoir including personal thoughts and feelings, but it would be too embarrassing and I don't think I could be honest enough. As for actions...there have been so many things I’ve done that, when they come to mind, make me want to cringe and hide. But I can truthfully say that my memoir does exist in a lot of the fiction I have written. Long may it stay there hidden (I hope) under the name of an appropriate character!
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