I agonised for ages (well about 2.63 minutes) over what to call this post, the other titles in the running were-
Never Underestimate The Productivity of a Mental
What I Ended Up Doing With That Anger
For Anyone Doubting That Bipolar Diagnosis….
I Wrote A Book! (but it’s not the book I thought up in Paris)
My Hands Are Covered In Felt-Tip
I could go on. Anyway I’ve ranted about children’s books somewhere else in this blog- I was annoyed last night about the lack of books available for children of single parents- all the families in books are one mum, one dad, kids and a smiley dog. My research last time I ranted about this told me there were more books aimed at the children of LGBT parents that there were of single parents. This turned into a Twitter conversation about the lack of books for the children of mentalists. I had a quick look on Amazon and there are a few rather dour texts about depression but nothing aimed at the children of bipolar parents.
So I had an idea- a great feeling that I haven’t had for ages, sat down at the kitchen table at 8.30pm last night and here is what I came up with. Again I lament the fact that actual talent doesn’t match creative desire but it is if nothing else my own unique style. I’m not convinced it’s suitable for children at all although the six year old seemed to like it.
I love your feedback and I know I’m shit at replying to comments and great at replying to tweets but if you’re moved to say anything about this post at all- please please leave a comment, tweets are so fleeting but I can keep blog comments forever- but do keep tweeting, especially if you plan to use the word “awesome”.