Five years after writing Diana Rigg Ruined My Life a chance conversation prompted me to want to cover the next 11 years of my early life. In October 1974 I travelled up to Liverpool to start my degree and by July 1985 I was married and a father and about to move to Kent. It's not because I think that I’m intrinsically interesting you understand, but because I didn't have a lot else on at the time. Perhaps it is true that writers have to write and, because I had no Neil McKenzie straining to be written, I fell back onto my favourite subject - me - to write a book about. The good news is that this one is only 22,000 words and I promise that this will be the last one!
Anyway, after moving to Kent I become much less interesting and, if it is possible, less endearing. For my time in Liverpool, however, I've little to be ashamed of except that I was young and obviously a dick. The book is really only meant for my daughters but is otherwise designed to make you laugh and to help you avoid the pitfalls that I fell eagerly into as a young man. You will notice that as I get older I become even less interesting so that the latter years in Liverpool are condensed into a couple of chapters.
Once again, I implore you all – if you don’t keep a diary, write about yourself while you still have time. I guarantee that you’ll forget most things. For example, recently I tried to assign our many holidays to its own year. I failed. If you can’t face it a wall planner is a compromise that might appeal to some.