Have you ever farted to win a race?
Have you ever been mugged? How about four times because you never learn?
What about having a teacher threaten to open their wrists in front of the class just to get their attention?
All this and more is covered in this book. Stories from throughout my childhood and into adulthood, ranging from the frankly ridiculous to the downright crazy. What you learn very quickly is that I am incapable of learning from my previous mistakes, I have the worst luck in the world and ultimately that I would do ANYTHING to win – or at least not come last.
I Don’t Want to Talk About It is a book that takes real-life stories and transforms them into (hopefully) an enjoyable read that brings a smile to your face. Sometimes through embellishment, sometimes by just being so ridiculous you can’t believe it happened – but trust me, every story is true. Only the names and locations have been edited for the protection of those involved as well as the humiliation that would follow, except for me, of course. My humiliation is real and out there for all to see.
Targeted Age Group:: 13+
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
During quarantine I found myself writing about some of my experiences life over the years, it started as a writing exercise and soon became something I was enjoying to pass the time – the situations are written in a way that brought a smile to my face and I hope they can have the same affect on others during these different times.
One bright sunny afternoon, which in England may have meant the only sunny afternoon that year, my mother and my brother decided to play some peasant tennis on our makeshift court, I felt left out, betrayed, disheartened and other things I didn’t know the meaning of back then and proceeded to do what any respectable, mature individual would do. I threw a tantrum until they let me join in.
I’m not proud of it, but it worked… so yeah, I’m a little proud of it.
Now the game was on, I was put on my brothers' team because mum fancied herself a bit of a Monica Seles type and thought she could take us. Unfortunately, I’ll never know if she was correct, you see it became apparent quite quickly what the game plan was, those devious conniving SOB’s were deliberately hitting the ball to each other, ignoring me! It took me longer than I care to admit before I realised this, such was the genius of their deception, but once I did, the anger, the disgust, THE OUTRAGE! It built up inside of me like a mighty volcano. I felt it slipping, my usual composed and rational self was losing control, I bellowed at my mother like the mighty lion roars:
“Stop ignoring me, you TIN CAN!”
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