I remember the moment I knew that I wanted to write. I was
training to be a primary school teacher at a University in Birmingham,
and we were reading Trainspotting by Irvine Welsh. We were given the task to
respond to a chapter and when I completed the task I felt a rush of passion
that I hadn’t experienced in years. I remember the lecturer advising everyone
in the room, but of course I felt as if she was addressing only me, that if
writing is where your heart is then you shouldn’t be afraid to pursue it. After
a very bad teaching placement, I returned to University and quit my course,
whilst simultaneously applying to study Creative Writing at Aberystwyth
University.
I had no idea how to fund it, or how I would move my belongings
from England to
Wales, but I
was determined and it happened! I felt like I was in a film, moving to a
strange new land and meeting some new and very strange people. It was so
exciting and over the three years filled with lectures, essays and booze, I
never really looked back. When I finished my degree I moved to Cardiff,
not really sure why… I think an old boyfriend convinced me, but thank goodness
he did, because then I met my soon-to-be husband.
Warren and I dated for a while and then the urge hit me
again. I was working full time fitting bras and although I loved my job, I
loved writing a whole lot more! So, I started dreaming about studying my MA and
before I knew it I was packing up and moving back into student accommodation
aged 26. It was a great year of my life. I made some amazing friends and my
relationship with Warren grew
stronger, so much so that we got married the following year!
The day after our wedding I received the news that I ad
passed my MA, but then the following day I had news that would really change my
life forever. I found out I was pregnant. From that day on it seemed that
everything paled in significance, even my love of pen meeting paper. Within
just under three years, we had moved four times and had two lovely children. We
were manic, we were a bit short on cash, but we were very, very happy.
Then came the day that my Dad died and suddenly the whole
picture of our life smacked us in the face. I had been studying to be a midwife
whilst Warren worked in excess of
55 hours a week, the children were in childcare from 7am-6pm most days and we lived in a built up city that
had lost its heart and soul the day my Dad passed away.
I’m guessing you have already gathered that I certainly
don’t mess around when a new idea or suggestion comes along, and well, neither
does Warren. We make a pretty
decisive and gung-ho couple, and I like that- a lot. We were sat trying to
enjoy our Valentine’s meal and I had spent most of it crying into my wine
glass, lost in my own grief. Then he said the thing that would change our
world, change our future and catapult us into a new life. He said, ‘I think you
should write your book…’ and he looked at me.
There was a quick discussion about where, how, when? Then
two months later we were living in a new house in Wales,
we had a new dog, new ‘sensible’ car and we were happy. We all missed my Dad,
and we still do, but I believe he left us with a little gift when he died; a
gift to make us want to live.
So here we are and here I am. Sat at my desk telling you I
am going to write a novel. I have never written one before, and I am scared,
excited, nervous, think I may have been sick in my mouth a few times just
thinking about it, but I am going to do it. I am going to be a writer.
