I have signed copies for sale in my shop!
One day, one particular day, I was feeling miserable. Very, very miserable. Alone and broke, fat and nearly forty, (well thirty six, actually, but close enough to the big Four O to be miserable about it), I hadn’t been able to summon up the enthusiasm to get out of bed that day, except to go to the loo. This wasn’t unusual, much of my life had been spent in bed, but it was worrying, nonetheless. I had whiled away the hours by alternating between dozing and daydreaming about a better life and occasionally with bouts of sobbing. There were books to read, of course. But I had forbidden myself to lie in bed reading, when there were more important things that needed doing.
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