Long before I faced redundancy and looked at a career as a writer, and well before I’d considered editing, I’d already decided to write.
That decision had come from a painful place: my relationship with my dad.
This was around 2000/2001, and we weren’t particularly close. I wanted to change that.
Until recently, this has been quite a difficult subject for me to understand, but now I reckon I do.
So, back then, I wanted to impress my dad, like most boys. I wanted him to notice me. But I felt his focus was on his work. I now fully acknowledge and appreciate that without his great work and legacy I wouldn’t be doing what I do today, which I love and will be forever grateful for.
He travelled a lot, and he read a lot. So, I figured, if I could write a book, and somehow get it published, and then somehow achieve enough success to get that book positioned in the front of an airport bookshop, he might notice me.
Ridiculous idea.
But I did write that book (Naughty By Nature, a novel, another story) but you won’t be surprised to learn that it didn’t make it into a charity shop nevermind an airport bookshop.
But from that pain came the beginnings of a career that I could be proud of, and involves travelling, reading and, yes, writing.
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