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Today marks my eleventh month on Substack and I’m using this as a clever cover-up operation for the fact that I’ve struggled to come up with something to write about this week for the first time in…er… exactly eleven months.
Sincerely, writing to you each week without fail has been no hardship at all, because I love to chat, even if only to myself. What I can’t do, is recommend things to myself, despite trying all the time. I recommend that I do some more exercise? Je refuse. I recommend I look at my phone less? Get my wife’s name out of your mouth. And so, I present some sudden recommendations to you. Eleven of them. In no particular order, and for no particular reason other than I can.
What I’d really love, is for you to recommend something back to me. It could be a recipe, a poem, an essay. A warning; while I trust and value your suggestions, as paid subscribers to this newsletter you’re already people of impeccable taste, if your recommendation is a TV show that has more than two series, and ‘you just have to get through the first one’, the answer is no. I want your precious things in small packages recommendations, please. I haven’t got the time for sagas; I’ve got an exercise bike to ignore and a phone to snuggle.