It would be silly not to include something about my book, And then like my Dreams.

I wrote it after the death of my beloved husband Charles (known for almost his whole life as ‘Chic’ – and professionally, too). The writing provided an excellent therapy for my terrible grief when I more or less dropped out of the human race for six years, and only managed to rejoin it when the book was finished.

Chic and I lived as one: we went everywhere together and did everything together, and were entirely happy with that. It did, of course, provide awful problems for me after he’d gone; for there was no-one left to provide support or even company. There was my wonderful bereavement counsellor, and had she been a lesser person she would’ve become heartily sick of me ! :) But of friends there was none. Mea culpa.

Still, she got me through, happily supporting my idea of The Book and encouraging me during its inception and development (but refusing to read anything before its completion). You’ll see that I dedicated it to her, should you come across it.

It’s not all doom and gloom, I promise: I’m incapable of ignoring funny/silly things, so there are many. The book was received pretty well by those readers to whose attention it was drawn by various means (which you’ll see if you check that link); but there was the problem – publicizing it. The publishers didn’t, and I couldn’t: marketing is a bloody expensive business and I’m a pensioner. It was my original blog that gained me wonderful followers who read and reviewed ATLMD, and I shall never forget them or their reviews.

I may post about something to do with And then like my Dreams, occasionally. I may not. Depends on the arising of anything pertaining thereto.   :)

Here’s one thing: