On dreams and dreamers...

I can't remember a time when I didn't write.

At six years old I wrote my first book - albeit a very thin one - about the adventures of Paddington Bear. By the age of seven I was writing and illustrating my own 'newspaper' which I sold to my long-suffering grandparents for 5p a copy. I think I called it The Sandown Times, and recall spending ages meticulously drawing out the calligraphy for the title so that it would look more professional. I loved coming up with dramatic headlines for the front page!

During our primary school years my sister and I used to share a bedroom. I would make up bedtime stories to tell her each night, usually involving puppies that had wonderful adventures. 

When I was nine my teacher, Mrs Jones, asked each of her students what we would like to be when we grew up. I replied that I wanted to run a home for orphaned children. I think I had been reading 'The Water Babies' and was terribly saddened by the plight of little Tom. (The character Mrs Doasyouwouldbedoneby was a great influence on my life. Mrs Bedonebyasyoudid terrified me!)

Mrs Jones was the first person to suggest that I should become a writer. I am eternally grateful to her for that! I recall the moment very clearly as it was like a door opened and a beam of light fell upon me. There were angels singing and everything... Up until this point I had no idea that it was possible to have a career as a writer. Where the hell I thought books came from, I don't know!

For the last thirty years this has been my dream. I wrote and completed several books during my Middle and High School years. I've no idea what happened to any of them, although I do remember having a story published in the school paper. 

When it came time to sit my 'O levels' I was in demand for my literary skills. O level English was taken as a written exam, but if you were put in for the lesser exam (I think they were called CSEs) you were required to submit a certain percentage of your work in advance. This made it incredibly easy to cheat!

Several other students had me write poetry, prose and short stories which they then submitted as their own work. I cringe at the thought nowadays, but at the time I was just so happy that people thought me worthy. A writer is nothing without readers, after all. Like the gods, we thrive on adulation. I think I must have written ninety percent of the coursework for my best friend. I didn't care. I took the English O level and passed with an A grade.

I was certain that I was going to be a writer when I left school. Okay, so for a while Indiana Jones persuaded me to be an archaeologist. I even did two weeks training with the Isle of Wight Archaeology Centre. But that idea was swiftly kicked in the pants when I found out that I would need Biology A level to study archaeology at University. I have a blood phobia. No way was I passing that test.

So writer it was. Until, that is, I came to have the 'Careers Advice Talk' at school. If I could borrow The Doctor's TARDIS for just a few hours I'd go back and beat the crap out of that man. (After seeing how the pyramids were built... what Stonehenge and Avebury were used for... having tea with Herodotus... ) The Careers Advisor sneered at me in a supersilious way and told me that I was sixteen now - I had to grow up and stop being a dreamer. Time to think about getting a proper job so that I wouldn't be a burden on my parents.

Incidentally, 'Dreamer' was later my name on a number of online forums.

I was painfully insecure until... um... probably five years ago. I studied for A levels for two years, but was signed off of the actual exams on medical grounds because I kept having panic attacks and not being able to breath. Years later these were correctly diagnosed as asthma attacks, but at the time I was given tranquilisers. I couldn't focus enough to study. I took the first job to come along and spent the next eighteen years working in an office which slowly and painfully Sucked. Out. My. Soul.

I never gave up on the dream. I never stopped writing. But I did stop believing in myself.

I will never, ever, tell my kids to give up on their dreams. Even if they want to be astronauts. I will encourage them to reach for the stars if that is what they want. You spend most of your life working. Better make it something that you enjoy. If you don't have joy and love and passion in your life then you are already dead.

I would love to write for telelvision. I want the thrill of seeing the people in my head come to life on the screen. But if that doesn't happen then I still have my books. The first novel in the Demonheart series - In the Blood - is almost complete. I have hopes for this one.

Wish me luck. Better still, wish me the stars.