My Truth
My Truth
The far-memory of Christopher Marlowe
Perfect Bound Softcover
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I have written this book, which explains what has been happening to me for many years and how it has affected my life.
It all started in June 1978 when I was watching a Granada production of Will Shakespeare. It came to the death of Christopher Marlowe and before I could stop myself I was saying: “I did not die like that” and repeated it over and over but didn’t know why. This surprised my husband and he said didn’t you mean, “he did not die like that”. “No” I said and repeated it again. At that time I had not heard of Christopher Marlowe, only Shakespeare. I read about Marlowe but could not accept all of it. At times this brought out anger and frustration in me, for I knew this was not going to go away.
So I started to write it down what came to me and it is not all in this book, but will be in my next one. It has been a hard struggle living with the knowledge of being here before and I can assure you it has been no ego trip either.
I was 29 years old when this happened and strangely enough Christopher Marlowe was 29 years old when he was supposed to have died. I lived at the house number 39, turned round is 93 – is this a coincidence or what? I found it difficult at times because I did not know what was going on with me. It brought out the esoteric side and as knowledge came back it all became scary at times. I felt like I was living two lives, the present and the past.
I recall visiting places where he had been and felt easily emotional and on one instance I sensed the fear of when he was raped at only 13 years old. That experience took a lot out of me, it was emotionally draining.
Trying to put these memories and all the work I had done behind me, I decided to put it all away in a box in the garage. But it didn't go away, for it got worse. Even though I had the full support of my husband and friends I found it hard to continue. They said, “you must get it published”, but I held back. I said, “people will think I am mad”, but I was reassured by one of my friends who said, “not everyone is small-minded”.
One day my mind was at last put at ease. I came home from shopping, made a cup of tea and put on the TV. To my relief it was about a woman A J Stewart who had had an experience like myself had written two books ‘King’s Memory’ and ‘The Falcon’. The man talking about her was Tom Barlow. I immediately grabbed a pen and wrote down the phone number, rang the studio straight away and spoke to him. He asked me to send some of the work for him to look at. And in the meantime I read her books. Her story made me realise what had happened to me. Tom Barlow rang me and explained that what I was experiencing is far-memory and he would like to meet me. We met sometime after this where he explained further about far-memory and that Christopher Marlowe ‘clicked in’ (as Tom calls it) and talked to him. All this has been taped for my benefit, as I do not remember what has been said.
So now I have discovered that I was not the only person who has had these experiences. This in mind I decided to write this book to help those in the same situation, so they can have an understanding of what is happening to them. I am shortly going to be setting up a website to help others with far-memory experiences.


"...I could not understand this man. He gave me the impression that he wanted to own you. He wanted your soul. He would not give you a chance to make your mind up, he made it for you. One minute he would be warm, the next he was cold. As I say, like the Medusa. He would turn you to stone with one look. I laid on my truckle bed. I could not get his face from my mind. I could see that cold look in his eyes. Maybe there is some warmth there I know not of. He was a man that one would say his countenance haunted you, and his voice. Once you made contact with him you felt that his presence never left you. And then I drifted into sleep..."

"...I was trying to write and he said: “You know, Henslowe will be wanting a play.” And I couldn’t write, I couldn’t think. My mind was on this beautiful youth. He was so, so goddess-like, too beautiful to be a man.
Eventually I went to bed, but I couldn’t sleep, tossed and turned all night. I was restless, sat up in my bed and thought I must get to know this young man. But he avoided me. I felt at first that maybe he was shy and that I needed to wait. But I didn’t want to wait too long. I didn’t want someone else to take away this paragon of beauty from me. Will kept saying, “Oh don’t worry, Give him time.” And Robin Poley… Actually he ruined it because in a way he could be a roguish knave in that way, he kept saying, “Oh, if you conquer him, if you bed him, I’ll bet you so much.” But it wasn’t me who made the bet, it was him. And he went and told Peter that it was me..."

I was born on the 24 June 1949 in St Helens, Merseyside and when only a few months old I moved with my parents to live with my grandparents in Blackpool, Lancashire.
As I grew the doctor discovered that I had an eye disability called nystagmus, which sadly hindered my education and I didn’t attend school until I was about seven years old. It was difficult at school, as there was not the help or the understanding for children with special needs then. But despite all this, I muddled through.
Time moved on and I became a carer for the elderly, which I found to be rewarding although not my chosen career path. One evening at the end of July 1974, I was to meet my future husband, Neville. Reflecting back I felt I had known him all my life. We got along so well that on 17 September 1977 we were married, and moved to our new home not far from my mother and brother in Blackpool.
In 1980 on the 15 June our son was born, and we seemed to be compelled to name him Christopher.

My life changed when my husband’s company decided to relocate him from Blackpool to Dunstable, Bedfordshire. On 12 February 1981 we moved ‘lock, stock and barrel’.


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