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I believe that everything happens for a reason. Picking up any spare paper and scribbling random sentences as a child led to me typing them up on a child-size type-writer. I think I imagined myself a bit of a Miss Marple! The idea of sitting at my desk, watching the world go past the window, as I typed away was my dream.

Typewriter1

So here I sit many years later with my laptop and notepad, watching the seasons change across the Cambridgeshire farmland and I know that I am exactly where I dreamed I would be.

Strange as it might seem, when your dream becomes a reality all of a sudden it is terrifying. Don’t ask me how this works, as even after years of studying Sociology and Psychology. I do not know. Technically, when you get to the point in life where you are living the dream it holds a sense of trepidation.

More comfortable, I found, was to sit at my desk at work, staring out of the window wishing I was home writing. There are no expectations to succeed on your own merit; just to complete your work. Yet being a writer you feel alone in the world of millions. If what you write is not deemed good enough, you have no manager to hand over to or tell you off.

Yet all that said, I love it! I am lucky to have been laid off from my mind-numbing job and left to write for my supper (or my children’s). Sometimes being forced to do something unexpected you find you work harder.

So the new book is well underway. I am working longer hours and more tired. But ultimately I am happy and content in my choice to embark on a full-time writing career. Please wish me luck and I hope you enjoy my books.

x

Typewriter picture borrowed from http://thewolfepackchronicles.blogspot.co.uk/2011/02/typewriter.html

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