2009 resolution

Every single day, come what may, I will write for at least one hour! Now that I have started my rewrite of my novel 'Dream on'I aim to get it published in 2009. I have not really wasted the time since Paula at Poolbeg offered me her advice. No I have since read Jodi Piccoult's 'Change of Heart' and other books. I have discussed books at my book club group and studied plots etc. At present I am reading helen Dunmore's 'House of orphans and also studying the excellent 'Marketing your book' Alison Braverstock that my nephew Mark gave me for Christmas. So I am determined to keep up the pace. I managed to walk 8 miles on St Stephen's Day so I can still muster up energy when I make up my mind. Maybe this is a good by product of those 32 years of discipline in the convent?!

Christmas 2008

Since my novel 'Dream on' was sent back from Poolbeg Editors I have found it difficult to blog. I felt like they didn't like my baby and that hurt. I am doing a rewrite but while I have all my ideas in place I find that I tend to find excuses and other things to do instead. I have been giving talks on 'Dropping The Habit' and Maria from the BBC have said that she wants to do a documentary on my family early in 2009..... so all is not as down beat as it might be.

There are matters which I have to deal with before I launch out again and these I will face today:

My brother Des's 51 year old partner David died suddenly on 17th and my sister and I spent yesterday up in London with Des. We are all still very much in shock. What is 50 years? Why are we hear and where do we go once we have died? Inevitably these profoundly searching questions rear their heads when someone we know dies and we are left pondering on the worthwhileness of our short span of life.

Tomorrow we will remember our mother died on 24/12/05 aged 81. Life changed once my father died on 18/09/88 and then again when my mother died. I will be 65 in September; so how long have I got to live here?

Although these considerations may sound gloomy perhaps it will do me good to stop and take stock. It certainly makes me realise that each day I can choose to enjoy what ever it is that I do as much as possible because these particular set of circumstances will not come my way again.

I had for instance considered travelling up to London tomorrow to surprise and support my brother when he has a Mass celebrated for David RIP but what is motivating me? Is that because I have spent so many years in the convent I think that I will be able volunteer to do the reading etc....but my brother has his friends and he will do things his way. I don't have to mind him.

I will instead get on with the rewriting of my novel 'Dream on'

Dante related?

I would love to be able to claim that I am related to the great Dante but as that his forename is my Surname.. Who do I think I am!However, I love all things Italian, speak the language and delight in ...even feel compelled to write...so have I some of his genes?

Melvyn Bragg on radio 4 'In our Time' this morning was compelling listening for me. Throughout my 64 years I have tried to discover as much as I can about Inferno,Purgatorio,Paradiso,etc. I have translations on my shelf and I have been to readings in various places.

My earliest recollections of encountering the importance of my name was when I must have been aged about seven, and told a priest on the steps of the the Father's Church in Limerick my name he responded with 'How did I get such a distinguished name?

Great Writers - Jane Austen

I just loved Chawton last Sunday! 'It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.' What an opening to 'Pride and Prejudice'. I bought a a complete and unabridged Collector's Copy so that I might be able to capture some of Jane's inspiration and dedication to the enjoyment of writing ...just writing and observing too of course. Just as in all great books the first few sentences sets the whole theme up....arouses curiosity...entices one on to search and ponder. I realise I am being prosiac but I can't resist. The ambience of the house in such a quintessential English hamlet...could it be called a village? When my friend Margaret drove off the main road it was as though the world took a breather and allowed us to ease into a time capsule. The meandering autumn tree canoped road, the thatched cottages, village green and of course Jane's house. We were taken back into a typical genteel English way of life. So much to see and read about. So many snippets of information side my side with a library of books and comentries and study books replete with information ane speculation. Costume and custom inside and a stables and gardens surrounding encouraged us to relax and soak up the atmosphere before we stepped across to the tea rooms for afternoon tea at four in the kind of cafe that one would expect to find in this area. No potted music but doilies and coffee, walnut, Victoria sponge and fruit cake, china cups and proper tea in china tea pots.Just the kind of afternoon one would long to be transported back to enjoy with Jane.

writing

My novel 'Dream on' has been with the publishers six months now! I am impatient for it to be read and I only wish I could push it to the top of the pile... it feels like leaving a baby to rock itself to sleep in a cradle perched on a desk top! My creation is in a nursery...does that sound too possessive? My daily hope is that today will be the day when Paula says ....that novel is certainly a best seller!

Because I am waiting I don't feel like writing another book.....but I know I must because lots of ideas keep popping in and out of my head. So I will begin now. I want to write about Peru. It is going to be a novel but I will obviously be able to draw on my own experience of trekking to Machu Picchu.

Money -tax

Were I living in Ireland I would go tax free yet here in England I have to complete a self assessment tax return! So much for encouraging someone to write and too much hassle combing through documents when you have not actually earned any money at all from the book you have written! What a waste of life's opportunities....

So much of my time lately has been taken up with the fundraising activities I have let myself become engaged in for The Fountain Centre (St Luke's drop in centre for cancer) in the Royal Surrey Hospital. Our Support Group are collecting outside M&S and Tesco in the Meadows which is in Sandhurst near Cambereley this Friday and Saturday. I'm organising this appeal so that entailed phoning folk for weeks before to ask them if they are prepared to give one hour of their time holding a collecting box. So many do not even bother to phone back and others have prior committments and of course, thank goodness, there are those who are willing and able to help. Then others in the group have arranged a golf day the following Friday on 19th. So three of us trailed up and down Guildford High asking the various shops and restaurants for prizes for this event. We wrote endless letters and went back to follow up our initial visit and sometimes, fortunately, to collect vouchers and gifts. While it is so good to help others it does take staminer and committment and so much time!

But then there are the rewards of being able and well enough to listen to those who are struggling to cope with their cancer or with family members and friends who need support and care. Most of all there is the Fountain Centre ready to help and support you...me personally when I have needs. This is invaluable.

Holiday in Ireland in verse

Splashed seascapes..the humour’s on me

Relentless downpours
Torrential rain
Surging floods, slushy mud
Did we pout, fret or moan,
let the weather get us down?
No, we jumped waves, let shells and seaweed,
tickle our feet on sand splashed beaches.

Gurgling streams
Gushing rivers,
splashing spray, lush green fields.
Enticed, we roamed.
Watched massive mountains disappear
Cloud formations hide and seek
‘I spy with my little eye…’

Pinky red and purple Fuchsia
Flagrant orange Mombreta
brushed Nissan through narrow boreens
as we searched for rainbows
laughed and sang
following Tra signs
demisting, clicking the views


Macgillcuddy Reeks
Iveragh Peninsula
Crannies and caves.
Fishermen with their catch of
silvery, salmony, crab and scrimp.
Then satiating our hunger
Healthily, wonderfully in
O’Neills at the Point

The Kingdom of Kerry
‘tis hard to compare
The accent, the humour, exceedingly rare
Sure you couldn’t be gloomy, groan or grumble
Where a goat’s crowned
by beautiful Aoife
at Killoglin’s Puck Fair?




Come with positive attitude
Have realistic expectations
Pack macks, swim wear and Crocs
Misty mountains
Can’t be lush green
Without the Atlantic wind and rain,
the meandering Shannon between.

In Curran’s Harbour Hill B&B
Overlooking Cahersiveen
Mingle with Italians, French and Spanish
Soak the welcome, superb accommodation
Breathe bracing air while
marvelling panoramic visions,
blackberrying; talking to cows.

Burke’s Activity centre
horse ride, farm, or beach,
crazy golf or lost in a maze
Splash Rossbeigh beach kicking a ball.
The kids in the playground while you
view the Atlantic and wonder at it all.

Cross to Valentia Island
Go ferry, back bridge
Venture up and narrow
Bends, sheer drop to sea!
Pray Mary in slate quarry
For loved ones and safety
Look, listen, wonder
Such beautiful splendour

Marion Dante 08/08

How was Ireland?

Wasn’t I delighted that the Budget Car Hire supplied me with an upgraded version of my own Micra Alley. It makes such a difference to be familiar with the make when heading out from Shannon to Limerick. At least should I come off the Dock Road too late and have to turn back I’d have some idea of where the reverse gear is….not like last year when I had to go round in circles to point in the right direction!

Isn’t it great to be welcomed once again into my first cousin’s tip top accommodation? Fed and found and all needs cared for we chatted endlessly while nearly ten year old grand niece played contentedly with the toys.

Refreshed the next morning we set off:

“Do you see those big houses there on the left Codie? Well my dad, that’ll be your great granddad and his brothers, built many of those houses? Now look over here on the right, that’s where our cousin’s parents…my aunt and uncle had their shop. And did you hear Cousin reminding me that there is a sealed box under the altar in the big St Joseph’s church we passed last night on our journey? ….Well, because my father, and his brothers and their father built that church their names have been sealed in that box.”

Before we headed for the Kingdom we turned off the windscreen wipers at the Crescent Shopping Centre so that we could stock up on sun cream! Well we were on our summer hols.

The rain lashed down past Patrick’s Well on N20. It delved down as we got on N21.Luckily we drove through Newcastle West before the deluge descended and it was fine again as we negotiated round by Farrenfore in the Milltown direction and on to Killorglin but by the time we got on the N70 Ring of Kerry road to Caherciveen it delved. Windscreen wipers went like clappers and when we steamed up was I glad we were driving on the mountain side of the coast road rather than the other side with the sheer drop to the sea.

What a genuinely warm welcome we received from Irene, Noel and Carina Curran in their well run Harbour Hill B&B! Was I glad that we had chosen to stay there for the week.

“Now, what time would you like to have breakfast each morning?” enquired Irene. “Nine o’clock,” replied Codie, without hesitation. So that was that. We dropped our bags next to our beds and headed straight down to Joey’s for chips and a salad and then returned and barely unpacked before collapsing into our comfy beds. All the driving, navigating, playing ‘I spy’, composing and singing songs had succeeded in tiring us.

Each morning we were surprised by the guests we met at breakfast. French, Italians, Spanish, Bulgarians, English and even an Irish man! We both drank the orange juice. I had a fry because I had paid for it! Codie tried Weetabix and cornflakes, nibbled jammed toast and even an apple and a banana on separate days. How wee we going to coax her to eat more? Irene eventually won her over with mouth sized Weetabix with a chocolate centre!

Each day it rained and each day we packed our swim suits, towels, sun cream, camera, a change of clothes and of course our rain macks. Each and every day we played on a beach be it Kells, Waterville or Rossbeigh…the latter was our favourite because of Burke’s Activity Centre with it’s horse riding, crazy golf, and maze etc. The food was home baked and delicious and the staff so friendly there too. What’s more on that beach there was a recently built out door but enclosed playground with the kind of soft landing surface that put ones mind at ease as the children tried out all the equipment.

The waves, the sand, the seaweed, pebbles, rock pools and fresh sea air to fill your lungs. Imposing high lush green mountains and a vast wind whipped seascape. What more could you want?

Was it the likes of this that inspired the late John O’Donohue of Anam Cara?

We crossed on the ferry to Valentia Island and drove up the very narrow road to the Slate Quarry and back down by Portmagee where we watched the trawlers unload jumping shrimps and lots more. It was there that Codie and I discussed seafood and she agreed to join the long queue and try salmon at O’Neill’s at the Point that night. At 21Euros for the meal I wasn’t going to take any chances so we shared the falling apart, pink fish, flaky boiled potatoes and salad but the next night we had to order one each all be it that hers was a half sized portion.

Puck Fair was well advertised so almost in spite of myself we parked up on the road out of town at noon on the Sunday. Hoods up on our rain macks and with the aid of our Crocks we paddled up to the Killoglin town. There was music and stalls galore, loads of food outlets, a fairground and in the middle the tower on which the puck was to be crowned by a twelve year old virgin at six that night. Codie had a hair piece put in by Croatian women who was told to move on as she not purchased a licence. I was relieved to read on our programmes that the horse sales was over only to discover the well oiled traders were either celebrating or drowning their sorrows in a ill lit restaurant. We did however find a wonderful fresh salad bar across the round about.

After introducing ourselves to the delightfully beautiful and friendly Queen Aoife we chatted to her, took her photo, listened to a band and headed off long before the puck was crowned. Poor puck! I caught a glimpse of him two days later as we drove past Killoglin on our way back past Adare Castle and the thatched cottages to Limerick.

Waterville Golf Course Hotel was the only place I felt that lacked the real Irish welcome. Was it because the staff were revving themselves up for more important guests when we popped in for soup and a roll? It was only when we drove back that way to have fun on the beach nearby and saw the four helicopters that I guessed that was a feasible explanation. But then I suppose we can’t match the calibre of Tiger Woods or hierarchy from the Dail?!

Two days later on our night’s stop over en route to Shannon there were more welcoming cousins at home in Limerick! Aren’t we the lucky ones that we are always made welcome no matter what time of year we choose to drop in and catch up? There is always a genuine ‘Well how are things? and heartfelt exchanges and care. Isn’t it lovely to feel that you connected and belong? So many memories to share and tales to tell the next generations of relations!

We crossed on the ferry to Valentia Island and drove up the very narrow road to the Slate Quarry and back down by Portmagee where we watched the trawlers unload jumping shrimps and lots more. It was there that Codie and I discussed seafood and she agreed to join the long queue and try salmon at O’Neill’s at the Point that night. At 21Euros for the meal I wasn’t going to take any chances so we shared the falling apart, pink fish, flaky boiled potatoes and salad but the next night we had to order one each all be it that hers was a half sized portion.

Puck Fair was well advertised so almost in spite of myself we parked up on the road out of town at noon on the Sunday. Hoods up on our rain macks and with the aid of our Crocks we paddled up to the Killoglin town. There was music and stalls galore, loads of food outlets, a fairground and in the middle the tower on which the puck was to be crowned by a twelve year old virgin at six that night. Codie had a hair piece put in by Croatian women who was told to move on as she not purchased a licence. I was relieved to read on our programmes that the horse sales was over only to discover the well oiled traders were either celebrating or drowning their sorrows in a ill lit restaurant. We did however find a wonderful fresh salad bar across the round about.

After introducing ourselves to the delightfully beautiful and friendly Queen Aoife we chatted to her, took her photo, listened to a band and headed off long before the puck was crowned. Poor puck! I caught a glimpse of him two days later as we drove past Killoglin on our way back past Adare Castle and the thatched cottages to Limerick.

Waterville Golf Course Hotel was the only place I felt that lacked the real Irish welcome. Was it because the staff were revving themselves up for more important guests when we popped in for soup and a roll? It was only when we drove back that way to have fun on the beach nearby and saw the four helicopters that I guessed that was a feasible explanation. But then I suppose we can’t match the calibre of Tiger Woods or hierarchy from the Dail?!

Two days later on our night’s stop over en route to Shannon there were more welcoming cousins at home in Limerick! Aren’t we the lucky ones that we are always made welcome no matter what time of year we choose to drop in and catch up? There is always a genuine ‘Well how are things? and heartfelt exchanges and care. Isn’t it lovely to feel that you connected and belong? So many memories to share and tales to tell the next generations of relations!

Don't touch me....I'm messy!

I didn't want to read Anne Enright's 'the Gathering'. She looked so bold when I asked her to sign a copy in the Listowel Arms. She was nice to me though and I wondered what she is really like. What's it like to be the winner of the Man Booker prize. There's some really rude bits in it...too graphic..do I really want to know all about sexual intercourse? I do....I did. There's so much too about death! She doesn't spare any detail. That's so disturbing. It made me...forced me to remember what happened when my father, mother and especially when our Tim died of alcoholism...There... I didn't want to reveal that to the public but somehow after reading this novel....( Is it for real? Is it part or all of Anne Enright's life?) I feel released and messy at the same time. The Gathering has done me good in spite of myself! Or has it? Verbal diarrhoea can be painful and necessary and perhaps unavoidable for some people. Joyce felt the need. Dante put in in verse so? We/I muddle through our years and try to make sense of it. Analyse, control, compartmentalize and explain. They say we never see ourselves as we are. When we look in a mirror or at a photo somehow even if it captures how we look it's just a glimpse the wrong way round!So if we/I can't even see ourselves how can we explain what we think to anyone else?! Do you know I'm delighted Anne Enright has made me leak!"Don't touch me." John 20 verse 17

Off to Kerry on my profession day!

5th August was always a very special day for us nuns!

On 5th August 1965 I professed my vows of poverty, chastity and obedience and this Feast of Our Lady of the Snows is still an important day for the Salesian Sisters. They will be finishing off their annual retreat and some other young women will probably have made vows or promises just as I did all those years ago.

How life changes...today I am almost ready to depart for the Kingdon of Kerry with my nearly ten year old great grand niece Codie. We have been ready for ages and she is impatient to get going but all is timetabled. She keeps looking out for my friend's silver car and asking me over and over again 'How many minutes have we got before we go?'

It is teaming out of the heavens and I am only hoping that the rain has swept over dear old Ireland and the sun is shining there.

Decisions/ choices/ consequences

30th July 2008 Three of us who had been in secondary school together met in Chichester today. Aged 63 going on 64 I had not met Jean since 1959. That's 49 years ago!

How little did I realise then that at the early age of fourteen the decisions that I made started me out on a path through life that is so different from the other girls in the convent school we attended.

When I left Holy Family School I was still a child yet I entered a convent to start training to be a nun. I still loved 'Wind in the Willows' at the same time as becoming very interested in Elvis Presley, Tommy Steel and Cliff Richard. I wanted to jive wearing a hoop through my petticote but when two of the nuns from the same Order that had taught me in Ireland, came on teaching practice in our school, I went away on a Vocation Day that they held in Henley on Thames and left home that August.

There are so many 'what if's' and too many consequences!

Andrea McLean

Tuesday 29th July

Why did I get so excited at recognising Andrea McLean the ITV weather reporter and presenter of 'Loose Women' when I saw in Army & Navy store in Guildford last Thursday? She is a lovely natural sort of young woman and I do like watching 'Loose Women' whenever I am in and ready to relax while having lunch at home on my own.

Having missed out so many years in chatting over ordinary womenly matters I am curious about the sort of things that women who were not in convents talk about. Although I find that some of the topics discussed might be considered frivolous much of what is aired seems quite intriguing... I am surprised too at how much the presenters reveal about their own families.However, I'm sure they are selective in this. Sometimes I find some of what they talk about embarrassing and I am glad that I am on my own and in my own home! I still blush and change the topic of conversation when this sort of thing occurs with friends. So watching 'Loose Women' is probably good for me. I would love to get on the programme too. Imagine them introducing me as an ex-nun!

Think good - feel good

Wed 23rd July On page 32 0f Rhonda Byrne's 'The Secret' Marci Shimoff protests that When you are feeling good, you must be thinking good thoughts and Lisa Nichols says: If you are feeling bad it is because you thinking thoughts that are making you feel bad.

So if I keep thinking that Paula will read my novel today I can convince myself that she will? Some how though the thoughts in my head will have to pop into her head!Could that happen? It would be super if I could send enticements winging over from here to Dublin. If that's all it takes my book should be calling out 'Pick me up and you'll enjoy reading me...you will...you will!

I know what I'll do.... I'll ask Niamh to place my ream of pages right to the top of Paula's to do pile and put a bright green piece of paper around them saying You'll enjoy this! Even easier .....if I ask Niamh if she thinks that were she to link my blogs to 'Dropping The Habit' information the sale of this book could be boosted. How about that?

Alienated

Monday 21 July My mother told me never to admit that I was feeling depressed. She said: "I remember well when your father and I had not long started going out together and I'd had a bad day at work, that night when he came to meet me and I told him I was feeling depressed. D'you know what he did? He cycled off and left me sitting there on the wall nursing my depression!"

There is only so much even good friends can take of my rattling on about how low I feel. What is the saying? Smile and the world smiles with you. Cry and you cry alone. My friends were very good to take me out to Zizzi's for a meal tonight but I must remember that each of them has their own worries.

On my down days I bemoan the fact that I have left community life for living on my own and have exchanged a life of aiming at perfection for a very different and varied life style. However, I can't expect members of my own family to walk in my shoes and appreciate why I still find it difficult to adapt to life in Civvie Street. But the truth is I belong to neither walks of life.

Lonely Sundays

Sunday 20th July:

Last night I had a whale of a time with my Scottish friends as we danced the night away! The venue was excellent, the food appetising, the live music brilliant and the welcoming, heartfelt and genuine. I thoroughly enjoyed myself. But today....

In spite of everything I am still drawn towards church on Sundays but then when I listen to media reports that the Pope, now in Australia, is saying sorry for sexual abuse inflicted on innocent victims, I feel so angry. Does he think that saying sorry will suffice to solve this problem?

April this year, when I travelled back to Sicily, where I was sexually harrassed by a priest in 2000, I discovered that this priest is now working with young people who are drug abusing!So much for SAYING SORRY!

Next venture?

Friday 18th July Health concerns have taken over lately. Having to have a big filling in my back tooth and going to the Doctor today are sapping some of my energy. At times like this I sleep whenever I feel tired but then find myself wide awake at 2am! A few night a go, when I finished reading Nigel Slater's 'Toast' I began to feel jealous that I had not thought of the idea of cleverly weaving a biography around food! That started me thinking that I could do something similar so I grabbed paper and pen and began exploring ideas around the reading material that I had available to me as a child in Ireland and then in the convent and now that the flood gates have opened up.

I filled the four remaing pages of my notebook before I dropped off.

Polish

Tues 15th July: Good news from my publisher today to say that my book will most likely be translated into Polish! There is a large Catholic population our there and I know at least one nun who left before I did so there are probably are many others who may be helped in knowing that we can survive after spending many years in convent life. Perhaps some could be helped my using writing as a therapy.

My novel - 'Dream on'

Mon 14th July 2008

It's almost a month since I sent my novel entitled 'Dream On' to my publishers Poolbeg. I'd love to hear from them but I realise that I have to be patient. I am probably an insignificant partaker in their big business. I'm aware that every day many authors hope that their book will be the next best seller. As this is my first novel, of course, I hope that I have been successful. Were this to happen there probably would be renewed interest in my autobiography too. So it would be a double whammy!

I can picture the Offices in Poolbeg being piled high with entries posted by other anxious authors like me. I just wish I could pop over to Dublin quickly and put my manuscript to the top of the pile, hand Paula a freshly brewed coffee and an irresistible cake and entice her to grab my effort, push back her reclining comfy chair and be enticed into my gripping story!

At the moment I am dipping into 'The Secret' by Rhonda Byrne in which several of the contributing authors ascertain that were we to think positively things would happen for us. So here goes: Paula will pick up my novel today and want to publish it ASAP! How's that?

Talks

Sunday 13th july: It was so good to be thanked yet again by a member of Frimley Green Library Reading Group for the talk I gave about my book. Writing is such a lonely exercise but it all seems worthwhile when when I receive recognition and praise. I could walk around those celebrating the Carnival cherishing the thought that I have achieved something that I can be proud of in spite of the fact that I felt lonely after my friend Margaret went home.

Religious beliefs? My brother died

11th July: My brother Tim would have been 62 had he not died four years ago. I wish he had lived to read my account of our family as scripted in my book, 'Dropping The Habit@. However I am pleased that he is no longer suffering pain and bewilderment about this life. Where is he now? Wouldn't be so comforting to believe that he is looking down from Heaven? Way down deep inside me I hope this to be true. But how do we know what happens after we die. In spite of the promises of some no one has yet come back to let us know. So is this IT? Dante Alleghieri did not think so did he?

The children's' story about the water bugs comforts me when I am sadden at death:

Some water bugs became anxious when they noticed that they all reach a stage when they feel urged to thrust themselves up above the water level - so one of them promises those remaining below the water level that after he/she has flown up into the air above he/she will return to inform them what has happened. However, having sprouted wings he/she cannot re-enter the water! Instead he/she wings around in the air experiencing greater freedom and happiness than ever before.

Does somethng similar happen to us?!

The Tablet - Catholic paper

My second blog: I have just phoned 'The Tablet' THE Catholic paper to ask yet again why my book 'Dropping The Habit' has not yet been reviewed by their editorial team. Although they requested a copy several months ago they have declined to feature it in their paper. Considering the book sold over 3000 copies and was reviewed by all the leading newspapers and magazines in Ireland within two weeks of it's publications, I'm left wondering why the PA who answered my call stated that they would not be reviewing it. Maybe, though I should not be surprised because of the fact that I have discussed issues to do with sex and unfaithfulness perhaps prohibits them from taking on board my views and opinions?! Pity that, since having spent 32 years of my life as a nun, my experiences could possibly provide some insights. Who knows? Is is not sad to think though, that this paper is not reflecting the views of people like me.

Una vita nuova!

5pm on Wednesday 9th July 2008 and I have created my very first blog! Great... It is over a year since I my autobiography was published by Poolbeg and I have recently submitted a novel entitled 'Dream On' to them. I wrote my autobiography in order to help me cope with leaving the convent after 32 years. I left home aged 14. If you would like to know more about this autobiography you could 'Google' my name and thanks to being on radio4 'Saturday Live' all the details can be accessed there.