November 2011


I offered to proofread this book. In the end, I fell in love with it and did a lot more than proofreading. I suppose what I did was closer to editing. Not that it needed a lot of editing. The author obviously has extensive background knowledge and has worked hard to weave an intriguing plot round the places and things he describes, with the help of some believable and well-rounded characters.

In addition, this novel tackles a difficult topic that needs to be discussed more: the exploitation of youthful beauty – the sale of children’s images.

David Rory O’Neill blogs here, and you can see descriptions of all his novels on his blog.

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There’s going to be a gap on this blog while I catch up with real life. I’ll be back next month.

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Sorry – it’s been a while. I’ve been wondering what to write about. Then I saw this question on Facebook from A Soldier’s Mother:

What is the single moment you wish you could live over again? Not necessarily to change anything – just to experience it again?

There were several replies. Most found it hard to pick out a single moment. Me too. What would I choose? The moment after giving birth? How wonderful to relive that moment without having to suffer what goes before it! But isn’t the suffering part of what makes that moment so special?

At this point, I could go off on a different tangent: the value of suffering. But I won’t – not for now, anyway.

So, what other moments do I want to relive? Our wedding day is another significant one. But there are other, less notable moments I could relive. Walking on the mountains of Switzerland or elsewhere, dancing, giving a presentation to an audience. I really enjoy all of those.

A Soldier’s Mother later said she decided not to ask what moment people wanted to change in their lives because it could make them sad. But I thought about it anyway. One moment stuck out. There must be others, but this one blocks the others from my mind.

I was fourteen. I’d been bullied for nine years, although I never thought of it as “bullying”. I decided to stop talking. It was the only thing I could think of doing that might stop them tormenting me. It worked – partially. And I’ve been suffering from that decision ever since.

I don’t deny that my life has been good and still is, but it could have been better and easier and less complicated without it.

So, I invite you to think about either of those questions (without being sad – I’m not). And, of course, you’re welcome to comment below (although if you’re looking at this page of this site – not just this particular post – the comment button is at the top of the post).