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My name, for the record, is Alexander H. Shaw.

Since so much time has passed since this was important, I feel silly to begin that way, but I was raised to introduce myself properly.

My friends always called me Xan or Xander, so I invite you to do the same, as I do hope that we will be friends.

Now I am a doll, but before, I was not. It is the before, a hazy dreamy kind of place that I am endeavoring to record in this journal. (though I cannot guarantee that some of my new experiences may not leak in. After all, one cannot live in the past when one is sitting in the future)

Before I was a doll, I was a man, a young man, for certainty, barely out of boyhood, but a man none the less.


I grew up in a decently sized town in England. The name sadly escapes me, but if I recall it, I will record it here. I do remember that it was, or is, a reasonable distance from London.

For reasons never explained to me, my father was good friends with the lord of our town. Now, removed from it, I can think of several reasons why this may be, starting with taking the fact that his appearance was quite close to Lord Constantine, and moving from there- he would not be the first man born 'on the wrong side of the blanket' (note: what a strange turn of phrase that is? Do they imply that all infidelity takes place without getting properly undressed?) That, or they simply went to school together, as my father always gave the impression that his family used to be a great deal better off then we were while I was brought up.
Not that we wanted for anything- Arthur Shaw (my father) was a decent solicitor (a lawyer) and while perhaps our home was a bit more shabby than it might have been, and there were fewer servants than the grand houses, it was a good place for a young man to grow.
But back to Lord Constantine, or rather, his son Henry. I was Henry's companion growing up. We shared many things, including tutors, and so it was that I came out of boyhood a good deal better educated than I might have otherwise been. I certainly would never have learned to handle a sword, or play three instruments, or ride like the wind had I not been his companion. Henry was... Ah, Henry was exuberant. Everything he did, he did at full tilt, heartily, and dragging me along behind him like a shadow. Not that I minded. It was fascinating the kind of trouble he could get into without in fact actually getting in trouble I recall this one occasion where he was minded to hunt fox- now when most gentlemen wanted to hunt foxes, they acquired on in a cage- I rather gathered that there were places where enterprising men bred them just for that sport. But Henry thought that was too tame, and dragged me out of bed quite before dawn and into the woods before breakfast.
We then spent a harrowing day (and night) lost in the woods behind the manor.
We never did find any foxes, which is just as well, as twelve year old boys are generally considered a bit young for the sport.

We were going to attend Oxford together- I assume my father had an eye for me following in his footsteps as a solicitor, or even becoming a doctor, if my heart led me there.

Unfortunately, that never happened.