My friend Ron, who doesn't know the meaning of tact, once told me I was a paradox.
He said there were plenty of people, particularly journalists, who could talk very well but couldn't write an interesting sentence to save their lives.
I on the other hand, although enormously dull to talk to, could create an interesting written sentence.
Encouraged by this My book CATS and OTHER PARTY ANIMALS is a collection of some of the weekly columns written for the Yorkshire Evening Post and hopefully has sentences of which Ron might approve.
It's only a small random part of my output because I don't keep proper files.
Looking back I became aware there is a divide between the cheeky chappy of my earlier columns and the tortured soul that emerged following the banking crisis of 2008, after which I did little more than spend five years seething.
This made things more interesting. Unending cheerfulness is a frightening prospect. You might, meanwhile, wish to console yourself with the thought that, according to Ron, whatever you think of my writings, things would be so much worse if you were to listen to my talkings.