Читать книгу Tripping Over - John Hickman - Страница 7

My story is neither the beginning nor the end but somewhere in between. It happened in some places I would rather forget, but like the phantom itch from a long ago amputated limb, it remains.

People who contributed to this book have had to wait a long time to see it appear. Sadly, for some it has taken too long. Many have died before publication. The author hopes he has done their memories justice. We live a while only to die sooner than we planned.

Carole, my wife, is appreciated as always for her patience in tolerating what has become my obsession. She has been a model of calm and reassurance with her recall of our family folklore. She knew my dad, Bill for more than thirty years.

To our daughter Sara Jayne, it was your artistic genius that led me to complete my book. Your contribution benefited me in so many ways. Our journey together with Tripping Over became my greatest pleasure, and your insights saved a tottering sequel. Together I’d like to think we put the fun back into being dysfunctional. Thank you, Sara.

My editor, the irreplaceable Tricia Eban, who gave her time unselfishly, kept me focused and never gave up on me. Tricia prevented my story from becoming a boring diary of events. Her many valuable suggestions and changes allowed my voice to come through.

Sincere posthumous thanks to Gran, who encouraged me to write with my first Remington portable typewriter. Presented on my tenth birthday, it was an expensive gift in 1955 at £6 pound from Whiteleys department store, Bayswater, London.