Tag Archives: childhood

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Three questions. How can I be a father until I feel like I’ve become a man? How can I become a man until I finally leave the boy behind? And, inevitably, how do I leave the boy behind without understanding … Continue reading

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Many of the easier-to-recall memories I have from my childhood that are coming back now are to do with fathers. Not just father-figures, in the friends I’ve often looked up to and modelled myself on, but other people’s fathers. One … Continue reading

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I should know, as an ex journo of any stripe, that one of the only hoary old rules of writing that’s actually worth listening to, heeding and tattooing on the backs of your hands is “Write what you know”. There … Continue reading

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I’ll start again, where I left off, with the half-doubted memory, my mother’s well-worn anecdote. 1988 (I’m sure now this was the year) and I’m sat, not even 8 years of age, watching that awful scene unfold – the starving, … Continue reading

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