Fridays are the day we talk about happy and beautiful things, and what could be happier or more beautiful than our golden, wine-and-poetry soaked youth at Oxford and Cambridge?
I wrote a short story some time after I went down from Oxford. (You “go up” and “go down” from Oxford, and you pray that you’re never “sent down,” because that is very, very bad.) The story is a love letter to Oxford, its beauty, its history, its weirdness, and the dizzying excitement of being young. I still think it captures something true about the place.
I didn’t know what to do with it. It was and remains the only short story I’d ever written. But I was attached to it, so I turned it into a little book and self-published it on Amazon. Every so often, some curious reader buys it. This one liked it:
It’s a work of fiction, but every place I describe is real.
I have a special offer for you. If you subscribe today, I will send you a complimentary copy of Oxford on Acid. (When you subscribe, you’re given the option of sending me a note. Be sure to tell me that you’d like to read it.)
If you’d like to read it but you’re already a subscriber, you can buy it on Amazon. And if you’d like a signed copy—signed electronically, of course, but still signed—you can become a Founding Member. Remember that Founding Members are also entitled to a bespoke Paris tour.
Enjoy!
(It’s not your imagination: Oxford really is far more beautiful. Sorry, John.)
Oxbridge