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Many old chaps like to write their memoirs, and mostly think they can write interestingly. I've become part of this group since retirement, and notice that these days you can in a way publish the results using the web.
Download my Sudoku secretary.This you see now is part of my very own public (and private) place.
Public because anyone can see it; but private in a way, because no-one but I can change it; private also because no-one will see it except by invitation. The web's a pub and private place, but none I think do there embrace.
If this is untrue, and you have found your way here independently, do let me know . I always like to hear, especially now I have endless time.
[Brian Miller said that no-one has endless time, but I countered by citing Wittgenstein, that "Death is not an event in life";. Discuss]
So as it's my space, I can use it for whatever I like, subject to the rules of the service provider and the law.
Each of us finds his own life extraordinarily interesting, and anything interesting demands expression. Thats why we have to suffer those grim Christmas summaries that people love to write but nobody reads.
So, while youre bound to feel guilty if you inflict a GCS on people, with your very own web space you can do the same thing, indulge in as much self-expression as you like, and be free of guilt.
Guilt-free because no-one has your stuff deliberately inflicted on them. If it turns out that you have after all got something interesting to say, then youre still not at fault, because people will read it voluntarily.
Here are a couple of quotes on this very matter:
In order to write one's reminiscences it is not at all necessary to
be a great man, nor a notorious criminal, nor a celebrated artist, nor
a statesman - it is quite enough to be simply a human being, to have
something to tell, and not merely desire to tell it but at least have
some little ability to do so.
Every life is interesting; if not the personality, then the environment,
the country are interesting, the life itself is interesting. Man likes
to enter another existence, he likes to touch the subtlest fibres of
another's heart, and to listen to its beating...he compares, he checks
it by his own, he seeks for himself confirmation, sympathy,
justification...
But may not memoirs be tedious, may not the life described be colourless
an commonplace?
Then we shall not read it - there is no worse punishment for a book
than that.
Memoirs of Alexander Herzen, quoted by James Lees-Milne (his ellipses)
in Ancient as the Hills, John Murray, 1997.
(I shall have something to say about J.L-M in my
books page).
For now, this is good
place.
The other quote is from Coleridge, but I can't find it.
Here is who I am:
So there are the key elements: age, the war, the long stretch as a technician, and the stammer.
Clothe these bare bones.