In my early twenties I was afraid to write. Coming back to education – five years after a dysfunctional approach to A-levels – I remember my first essay. I fretted over every single word. I say essay, but that may be overstating it. It was a paragraph, actually – quite a short one, summarising the causes of the Russian revolution. It took me a whole evening of kicking and screaming to get the words in a presentable order.
Almost four years later, after a similar fuss, I brushed a pile of masticated nails from the manuscript and handed in my Bachelor’s dissertation. I thought this would be the end of writing for a while, but before long I started to feel empty. I discovered I’d become addicted to it.
Though in my first post-university job I got to write the occasional article for their website, it wasn’t enough and I started a personal blog. I had fun with that site, and practised writing daily. I’ve transferred the posts I’m most pleased with to this site and you can find them in the ‘Blog‘ section. I’ll continue to update this when I have time.
In the past year I’ve turned my hand to fiction. It’s tough. Now I read my favourite authors with renewed respect. The way they create their worlds blows me away. You can find my first attempts at stories in ‘Stories’… I’m learning, but I hope you enjoy reading. Comments and advice are appreciated.