Auckland, New Zealand
I have a dream…it began circa age seven when I discovered a kind of bliss expressing the realms of my imagination writing creative essays at Birkdale Primary School in little ol’ Auckland, New Zealand. Writing brought me comfort and companions during isolating times of illness and hospital stays. Writing gave me strength and purpose, and escape from fear and pain into worlds of goodness and beauty. I was a sucker for traditional stories of good and innocent triumphing over evil. Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, the Little Princess, Alice and Wonderland all caught my imagination and inspired me to express the visions of my world through my own stories and characters.
From small beginnings, a mature child made a big commitment to herself. I wanted to write novels. I needed to release all the people, plots and places cluttering my head for others to know and enjoy. I didn’t need to be famous, I just wanted to get the many, many tales there down onto paper before they were lost, forgotten or faded. Fame was something that even at the hugely mature age of seven, I didn’t expect would come from my chosen vocation to write. Fortune was the other ‘F’ word I was not expecting to follow the release of my soul onto paper. Adoration and praise? Well…we all have an ego of some degree so I wouldn’t say no to having my own fan club.
There have been many dot, dot, dot moments filling in my existence since that decision but they hardly bear lingering over. There are no more excuses as to why not, only reasons why. This is to be no boring tale of my life of tragedy and woe, but an escapade into the dream I had at seven to dedicate my life to writing.
I have a dream…it began circa age seven when I discovered a kind of bliss expressing the realms of my imagination writing creative essays at Birkdale Primary School in little ol’ Auckland, New Zealand. Writing brought me comfort and companions during isolating times of illness and hospital stays. Writing gave me strength and purpose, and escape from fear and pain into worlds of goodness and beauty. I was a sucker for traditional stories of good and innocent triumphing over evil. Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, the Little Princess, Alice and Wonderland all caught my imagination and inspired me to express the visions of my world through my own stories and characters.
From small beginnings, a mature child made a big commitment to herself. I wanted to write novels. I needed to release all the people, plots and places cluttering my head for others to know and enjoy. I didn’t need to be famous, I just wanted to get the many, many tales there down onto paper before they were lost, forgotten or faded. Fame was something that even at the hugely mature age of seven, I didn’t expect would come from my chosen vocation to write. Fortune was the other ‘F’ word I was not expecting to follow the release of my soul onto paper. Adoration and praise? Well…we all have an ego of some degree so I wouldn’t say no to having my own fan club.
There have been many dot, dot, dot moments filling in my existence since that decision but they hardly bear lingering over. There are no more excuses as to why not, only reasons why. This is to be no boring tale of my life of tragedy and woe, but an escapade into the dream I had at seven to dedicate my life to writing.
So here we go then. Take a ride with me to the Southern City of Dreams, Melbourne, Australia where I intend to devote four months to starving in a garret (or more likely a dingy hostel), lurking behind cappuccinos eavesdropping on potential characters for my novel, and pounding countless pavements to gather what I need for the chance to create something magnificent. This is it, the money where my mouth is moment to succeed or fail but regardless, to try. Nothing comes of nothing so deep breath everyone, here goes...are you coming?
