I guess I have Auntie Mary to thank for making me want to be a writer. That's because she made my life a misery. I went to live with her after my father died when I was eleven. She and Uncle George were very poor and I guess she resented having an extra mouth to feed. She gave me a rough time. But, hell, every writer should be grateful for having an unhappy childhood. So, thanks Auntie Mary.
From the age of seventeen she always called me "Six feet of nothing". At the time I was six feet tall and weighed ten and a half stones. Now I'm nearer twelve. Stones that is.
Not feet.
No comments:
Post a Comment