In Competition No. 2937 you were invited to submit extracts from the diaries of the famous that their writers did not wish the world to see.
Josh Ekroy impressed, lifting the lid on F.R. Leavis’s and C.P. Snow’s chummy trysts; Alan Millard wasn’t alone in outing God-botherer Richard Dawkins; and here’s a snippet from Sylvia Fairley’s Wordsworth:
Walked around Ullswater in pensive mood, unable to find a suitable rhyme for ‘hills’. My dear sister, as ever, solved my predicament … the muse inspired her, and she has completed the poem already.
It was an enjoyable entry: hats off all round. The winners take £25. The bonus fiver belongs to Basil Ransome-Davies.
Sunday: another away draw yesterday. We mustn’t suffer a slump in morale, though. I see it as a point gained, not two lost. Some of the lads think differently, as if they’d been reading Schopenhauer, but I say pessimism is a self-fulfilling prophecy.
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