Why a memoir
I wanted to avoid the sterility of the academic form, and the unmanageable language of textbooks. The introduce-state-tell- re-state-conclude forms that rob our conversations of their appealing and seductive qualities. I did not want to explain where my story was going, what I wanted you to hear, or what you would learn. I wanted to make you gasp, sigh and snigger. I wanted to sit over a slow lunch wine in hand, and say “come with me on the journey, we’ll have fun!” I could have penned a novel, airbrushing the messy bits, and emphasising the lyricism of life. However, I guessed many would dismiss such a storytelling as imaginary. They would dismiss the rough edges as fanciful, the extraordinary situations as invented and the quirky circumstances as unbelievable. I'm sure what I have survived has happened to many, I dare to hope that it is not a common experience. It had to be a memoir, because believe me or not, i wanted you to know everyone was true. That's why...