My resolution and cheerfulness held well today, and we managed to finish all the audio recording of “Trapped” by four fifteen this afternoon. Hooray! On Monday, we do pickups, and edits, and that is about the end of this project, about which I have been preoccupied since January. Publication of book – tick! Narration of audio – tick! There is lots of new space in my head for doing some work, for writing, for resting and for getting in touch with friends.

Claire Montreuil, 1945
Claire Montreuil, 1945

It is strange to reflect that the engineer, whom I will probably never meet again after close of business on Monday, knows so much about me, and I know only his name, that he drives a dark, diesel engine car, and lives in town. I have his business card in my pocket with his phone-number on it, and that is all.

I have had various names, each one marking a distinct period of years in my life. I am glad to have arrived at Fran Macilvey, and here I hope to stay.  I am still getting used to it, though, and often forget that anyone who has read ‘Trapped’ will not need the usual context or explanations, even if I have only just met them. I would be interested to hear what other people feel about the experience of writing memoir, of sharing the highs and lows. Do you brush off the inequality in the information exchange, or does it leave you feeling unbalanced?

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