There’s always a part two, if you didn’t guess, shame on you. No I kid, relax! The inspiration hit me as I remembered the old proverb, ‘Writers are not made, they are born,’ I have to give my honest opinion, forgive the language; BOLLOCKS.
Let me take you all back eleven years, I was aged seven, and a bit; of course. Never wanting to grow old, having fun with my small group of life long friends, as all children do. Being inspired every day just knowing I’d do something amazing when I was ready. However; aged seven in school, I was deemed border line retarded in English. Just think now, a single A level above all in the subject I was deemed less than satisfactory at.
To you and me they were small mistakes that could have been rectified in any child’s mind pretty sharpish. ‘Culd,’ instead of ‘could’ ‘wud,’ instead of ‘would’ in short, how the less adept spell today in order to ‘fit in’. I admit, I was young, and that teaching was still in a rather draconian phase in determining potential or even standards. My speciality then, was the sciences.
Ten years ago this year, I began my training to become a writer, I would love the vanity to say it to be impossible for any old child of eight to do as I did. But it’s not. I was very unremarkable at the time, unsupported and helpless, but I worked hard, at the very least my comprehension of spelling flourished, though that of grammar and punctuation made not change. Thankfully my grasp of grammar was prematurely achieved.
Fuelled by over a hundred television programs and my childhood games on the yard, my imagination was boundless, and still is thanks to my hermit lifestyle, and love of literature of all ages and genres. My skills bloomed in front of a computer screen, the art of plot and character outlining and building formulated in my mind as I puzzled for a few months each year. By the age of 14 astoundingly I had a draft over 100 pages long, and a Bard in the school eisteddfod in the year previously. It had been slow progress in a small pond but I created and shaped myself into the writer I am becoming. All that’s left is the energy to accomplish my greatest task: The novel.
Where am I today? See for yourself! Me, myself and I are astounded by my creations, which lay claim to fantastic tutoring, and patient friends. I hope for more time to amaze whoever stumbles upon me soon, the ideas are budding!