Publications
Partners
Dear Sue
I still remember the day, as a 13-years old, ( I am now in my 40′s) that I picked up a small book with an interesting cover, titled The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, Aged 13¾.
As I was also 13 at the time, I thought it sounded promising. And from then on I fell deeply and irrevocably into Adrian’s dysfunctional world, and thus began a life-long life affair with these absolute literary gems.
I wept with him through The Growing Pains, through every pimple, and cheered at every smile from the fabulously unattainable Pandora. Sue, I hold you accountable for my firmly entrenched Anglophile status.
I loved Adrian’s angst-filled poetry, his constant optimism that his thousands of poems about the Norwegian Leather Industry sent to BBC Radio had perhaps gone astray in the post, hence the lack of a response.
We grew up together through The Wilderness Years and The Cappucino Years and picked our way carefully through the minefield of adulthood. As the world changed in Weapons of Mass Destruction, Adrian and I soldiered on looking for meaning in a world gone mad.
In The Lost Diaries, we searched together for a purpose in life, despite the rise of the wildly successful Pandora in the world of politics, the trials of fatherhood and the worry of a rapidly expanding bald spot.
And finally, in the bittersweet Prostate Years, I laughed and cried through the alarmingly frequent trips to the the loo, the imminent closure of the bookshop that provided a small measure of self-esteem and income, and finally rejoiced in the grudgingly but heartfelt expression of love from a dysfunctional family for the greatest anti-hero of our times.
Thank you, Sue, for giving us Adrian. From painting over his Noddy bedroom wallpaper in black paint at aged 13, to battling prostate cancer at age 39, he remains one of the most satirical, tragic and endearing of heroes, and today I salute both of you.
With love and immense gratitude,
Claire
Follow Women24 on Twitter and like us on Facebook.
I still remember the day, as a 13-years old, ( I am now in my 40′s) that I picked up a small book with an interesting cover, titled The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, Aged 13¾.
As I was also 13 at the time, I thought it sounded promising. And from then on I fell deeply and irrevocably into Adrian’s dysfunctional world, and thus began a life-long life affair with these absolute literary gems.
I wept with him through The Growing Pains, through every pimple, and cheered at every smile from the fabulously unattainable Pandora. Sue, I hold you accountable for my firmly entrenched Anglophile status.
I loved Adrian’s angst-filled poetry, his constant optimism that his thousands of poems about the Norwegian Leather Industry sent to BBC Radio had perhaps gone astray in the post, hence the lack of a response.
We grew up together through The Wilderness Years and The Cappucino Years and picked our way carefully through the minefield of adulthood. As the world changed in Weapons of Mass Destruction, Adrian and I soldiered on looking for meaning in a world gone mad.
In The Lost Diaries, we searched together for a purpose in life, despite the rise of the wildly successful Pandora in the world of politics, the trials of fatherhood and the worry of a rapidly expanding bald spot.
And finally, in the bittersweet Prostate Years, I laughed and cried through the alarmingly frequent trips to the the loo, the imminent closure of the bookshop that provided a small measure of self-esteem and income, and finally rejoiced in the grudgingly but heartfelt expression of love from a dysfunctional family for the greatest anti-hero of our times.
Thank you, Sue, for giving us Adrian. From painting over his Noddy bedroom wallpaper in black paint at aged 13, to battling prostate cancer at age 39, he remains one of the most satirical, tragic and endearing of heroes, and today I salute both of you.
With love and immense gratitude,
Claire
Follow Women24 on Twitter and like us on Facebook.
