Why don’t you pick up a pen and start writing, the friendly from voice from down the telephone line announced? My friend John gave me the best piece of advice he could several years ago now. I had never been particularly good at writing at school as I’m sure my teacher/s who attend the 10 o’clock will tell, I never had a great interest in reading either, and for the son of the local book shop manager, that was hard to believe, somehow there was an assumption that my bedroom would be stacked out with all sorts of books, when in fact the only annual interest in reading was the “Blue Peter Annual” every Christmas, the safest Christmas present my Grandmother could give me.

My writing started when I had more time on my hands, after I had been signed off from work, some how it seemed the ‘write’ thing to do, but in my case it was sitting in front of a key board, as my writing was completely impossible to read, and according to family members has not changed much since then!

My problems, in relation to my writing and speech, stemmed from a lacking of; concentration, knowing what I want to say, but the wrong words appearing on the keyboard or even ‘popping’ out of my mouth, and perhaps the most embarrassing of all, having to ask my three children how to spell, what they tell me are the simplest of words. So, as you can see, to ‘produce’ three hundred odd words, takes me a long time, or is it just me ‘waffling’ on?

But, I want to encourage everyone, even YOU, to pick up your fingers and start to attack that keyboard, and write, whether it’s an article for this fantastic The Voice journal or perhaps, like me, sending a monthly e-letter to your friends. It is the most cathartic method I have found to ‘download’ your worries and problems, but obviously not to bore the reader with them. But, what’s to stop, us as parishioners, to write a book about life in Bilton, about the church, the history of the village, Poems, Jokes from the Children, Recipes from The Mother Union or Women’s Institute, and then sell the book in aid of the New Community Centre??

My “Paul’s letters from the Patio Door” started like for former; friends would email me asking how my appointments at the hospital were going, how the children were fairing at school and how my better half was dealing with me at home. So I started the letters. Hopefully they have matured like a good old cheese or bottle of wine over the years.

So, this month I have no real story to tell, no real letter from the Patio Doors, not because there is not anything there to tell, but I thought I would like to encourage you to write an article for The Voice, join me in the great “Waffle”