‘Life Writing’ is all the rage nowadays, and two reasons suggest themselves. We live in a narcissistic, egalitarian age in which self-expression is seen as a virtue and a right; and technology not only floods the ether with blogs untouched by editorial hand, but has made it possible for self-publishers who yearn for the kudos still associated with the printed page to sell their works directly through Amazon, albeit at their own expense. 

As anyone who has spent time in a publishing house knows only too well, the notion that ‘there’s a book in everyone’ is a cruel lie. Be that as it may, autobiography is the one branch of writing at which everyone – myself included – feels justified in