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So far I‘ve avoided re-reading and re-editing those early posts, which are probably pock-marked with typos and problems of disjointed continuity. They were fairly raw, I admit (who am I kidding – they were very raw); not that I consider them now to be great pieces of literature. But I hope that there has been some improvement in the style and delivery.

I am told that I have a small degree of perfectionism in my character; if that means that I try to do the best that I can, and try to constantly improve, then perhaps that’s not such a bad thing.

Blogging has become a little compulsive for me, and from what I’ve read of other people’s experiences, that is a completely normal feeling.

I hope that those of you, who are kind enough to follow this blog, have found an improved fluency in the writing. I am trying.

It would be easier if I were not trying to stick so rigidly to the actual words and situations as they happened. I cannot for instance be too over descriptive of places, without a fear of giving away the locations in which the incidents took place.

I have no desire to add any degree of fiction to the blog other than the names, which, as I have said have all been changed to protect the privacy of my relatives, friends, lovers and incidental strangers, who pass like film extras through my life.

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