It seems a little strange to be writing a ‘welcome to my blog’ entry when I have eighteen previous entries from last October/November. But I thought my India diaries ought to appear here for posterity – if only, as I think I mention at some point, to appreciate how close I came to having no posterity at all. But having thankfully survived and documented the food, the cattle-market airport scene and the death-ride home from Pondicherry, I can begin to write about other things.
I started Make a Long Story Short supposedly to transfer news to family and friends who no longer live in our immediate vicinity; really, of course, I just want an excuse to write. A large proportion of my life is about reading – what kind of genius seeks out an editorial job involving long days of squinting at small text when her hobby is squinting at small text? – and all those words have to come out somewhere. I find the less I write, the more melodramatic in my day-to-day interactions I become. Let’s avoid that if possible. As neither Tim nor I are explorers of the Arctic tundra or chocolate testers for Cadbury’s, I expect our ‘news’ will be along the lines of which book I happen to be in the middle of and what we had for tea. I suspect I’ll have more to say once we start producing offspring, but by then, obviously, I won’t have time to write. Such is life, etc.