It’s a strange sensation re-reading older stories and remembering how and why I wrote them. Most are set in specific cities for this collection. Today it’s London for ‘Call Me Bernie’ about a girl who helps a woman with dementia find her way home. Of course they don’t find the physical place but between them they create the feeling of having landed somewhere safe. The story is a collage of real experiences from having a stranger reach for, and hold, my hand in a grocery store to helping an elderly man who had lost his compass. It is also about the sense of anonymity and alienation I felt in London. When walking down Oxford Street, I was trying not to get trampled by the sheer volume of people flooding every occupied space. Being anonymous and then going to drama school and being someone else, or many someone's in many plays made for an altered reality. Journeying back into stories I wrote in different places makes me appreciate the luxury of travel, of being able to live abroad and having a new perspective on the places I call home.
Thank you for your continued support and patience in getting the book into your hands, a book you've already pre-ordered. Once the editing is done I will deliver the manuscript to the good people at Unbound this month and keep you updated.
Meanwhile take care all,
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