A publisher friend tells me that the problem with writing fiction, a novel or short story in particular, is that there is a special skill in writing convincing dialogue. I obviously need to practice, so here goes with my own Pooh o­n computers and things.

     “Bother!” says Pooh staring at the screen.
     “What's wrong?” I enquire.
     “My paw is too plump to fit the keys properly o­n this key-thingy.”
     I correct his row of pppppp's and ask, “What are you trying to say anyway?”
     Pooh looks a little Eyore-ish and mumbles, “pppp-lease will anyone who reads this send me pots of honey…..”
     “Haven't you got enough already?” I ask.
     He recovers himself, stands up straight and sucks his tummy in, “What's the point of writing a blog if you don't get people to send you things?”
     “Okay,” I say, “I suppose you have got a point.”

Please don't send honey – or anything else! It is meant to be about reminding ourselves we are all part of some new esoteric community of souls who connect, even though we spend our time bashing out words into the ether.

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