What makes you cry?

Do you cry at Movies or Books?

I confess to being lachrymose, I cry at anything. It does not take much to get me to “fill up”

Take for instance last night I watched a movie about soccer. Would that make you cry – bring it on Margaret – where are the tissues. I am a sucker for all that baloney. I just can’t help it. Sentimental, moi? Of course.

Believe me, I take after my Dad. He was a “cry baby” too. We used to go the pictures (movies) on a Wednesday and a Saturday; you can bet we both shed a tear. We liked Horse and dog films, guaranteed to weep buckets.

John and I spent a Christmas in Cyprus. For the first time EVER we put our dog, Nell, in a kennel while we were away. You know what, we were daft enough to watch Lassie Come Home…oh the sobs across that warm Cypriot night. People were closing their balcony doors.

I can remember age seventeen and trying to be cool on the bus – going to work, dressed in my finest, reading a book by a famous British author called “A J Cronin. The book was “The Citadel” the hero’s lovely wife is run over and killed. Bucketfuls, mascara everywhere. How embarrassing. For the next week I didn’t take the bus but walked to the office. Three-mile walk, no easy job in stilettos, let me tell you.

But you know what - I enjoy it. Book, film, TV drama – and don’t get me started on real life. Goodness, people come and tell me their troubles, knowing they are going to get a full-blown reaction. And do I actually cry at my own stories? Well of course, come on if the author doesn’t cry it’s darn tooting the reader won’t!