We have a programme here in UK in which people who want money to start up their businesses appear in front of five horribly rich people. If the horribly rich people (the dragons) decide to, they can give the supplicant money and take over a large part of their business operation and enjoy the profits themselves. If not, the wretched beggar is humiliated and made to despair.

It is like watching bull fighting. The bull always seems to lose.

Anyway, I was watching this spectacle when a smart salesman in a shiny suit appeared. He was even wearing a tie. He gave the spiel about how he went round to people's houses to hear their life history. He then showed them how to write it up and he then produced it as a lovely leather bound version for their children. He had, he said, been at it for over ten years and had made many friends. They, of course, did all the work and all he did was a little tiddyvating and proof reading.

All was going very well until the only lady dragon said she would not be investing because several of her friends had had this experience. What happened, she said, was that the people were told the set price and visited by a smarmy little man. He then enveigled his way into their lives and wrote their life story.

When the bill came in - WOW!

It went like this:

Every visit: £300 (and there were lots of visits).

Price of book: £3,000 (this was the original price offered at the start).

Total cost: £10,000 and rising. (Average annual wage in UK is about twice that: it is a considerable amount of money for most people).

• This set me thinking.

Like you, dear reader, I fancy myself as a writer. I also fancy myself as a charming little chap who can listen and record thoughts and then write them up. In this, dear reader, we are similar.

Where the smarmy man went wrong was that he was seriously greedy. If he had stuck to his original price, he would have been onto a winner. Think about it:

• We old people love to leave something to our children to remember us by. What better than a list of funny and not so funny experiences? The more people it affects, the better. We have life savings to dip into - and what better cause than leaving a small part of your memories and life experience to your geneologically challenged descendants?
• And we old people are a growing demographic. There are more of us now in UK than there are teenagers.
• The scheme needs a good writer (like us) but no capital outlay at all. It does not mean grovelling to the bank etc etc. The start up costs are simply some local publicity. I don't think the internet is right, though. I do not know, for instance, anything about, say, India. Keep it local.
• You go round to the people's houses. You do not need an office with computer, lots of government mandates, health and safety, legal aid, etc etc. The EU need never know.
• All it needs is a superb bookbinder in leather. His costs can be included in the price. He does all the work, really. And I bet that any bookbinder you know would almost kill for work nowadays.
• For people who are poor, you can always publish on lulu.com, where, you pay absolutely nothing until a book is ordered. Then you choose the price of each copy (with your own royalty included).

• My aunt wrote a book like this. I really enjoyed it. I did not know, before I read it, that her husband (a doctor) committed suicide five times. (WHAT???) Also, she was sent down from Cambridge in the 1920s. Well worth a couple of quid. (Sorry, bucks).

  And the hugest advantage is this:

  Me, I have written FIVE novels. Have you ever heard of Mike Stallard among authors such as the Rev William Shakespeare? Bert Euripides MP? Arthur Aristotle? No? You surprise me.

  Not one novel has been published.

  With this brilliant idea, however, you already have the sale before you start. No need for kissing frogs. No need to grovel and pretend. No embarrassing confessions like you have never been published. No horrible moments when your book of five years preparation is suddenly dropped before publication (This happened to a friend of mine). No scouting round for publishers with their funny little put downs and refusal letters.

  All it needs is a letter to the paper and a bath before your first visit. (Ladies might like to use this as an excuse for some shopping?)

  Now then. I have, dear reader, been where you are no doubt standing. I have been in need of cash. Now I am poor, but not broke. If this idea is any use to you, please play with it - alter it, bend it to your will and develop it. It is yours!

  The only thing is that if you live in Wisbech Cambs, UK, please get in touch - we can, no doubt, work together!

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