I’ve been stealing myself

in that I know I’ve got to keep on writing…about what and whom is less clear…

I studied film-making at University – well it was really a Polytechnic and I was the awkward girl who didn’t seem very awkward compared to the other students. In fact one of the technicians straight out asked me ‘What are you doing here?!’ in the first semester.

I seemed normal. I suppose I was, relatively speaking – everything is relative right?!

After uni the idea was – well I’m not sure what the idea was. I found work at a production company. We were on set and of course I was immediately cornered by the big star who was fronting the campaign for which they were filming an advert – I’m naming no names (that sort of thing really is tired).

I was disenchanted. I had dreams of making films – little arty vignettes – the sort it is so easy to put up on TikTok now, not making the tea for ugly people who sold their souls a long time ago.

I swiftly handed in my notice and started making my excuses to my parents – East Anglia might be a back water but I grew up here and thought to myself I might even become a news reader.

No came the parental verdict. Back you go – to the smoke. Finish what you started. So I persisted and in the end became involved with indie film-makers and when that became too fraught decided to teach my subject.

This was a brilliant move. I was highly skilled and adaptable. I mean I’d been on teams of equally clueless young people and made movies so there was little that the teenagers of the East End could faze me with.

Thus commenced five happy years.

The rest is somewhat tragic history – if people know me as most of you do – I don’t need to go into the details – I’m saving it for the memoir anyway.

I was then fortunate enough to collide with people online who know about self-publishing and reckoned I could write a novel. The idea seemed pretty preposterous but I thought I might as well give it a whirl.

I had worked briefly in a call centre and sold raffle tickets for a charity. If I could sell their stuff I could sell my books so I pinched my self and got on with cold-calling on behalf of me incorporated.

The rolling stone was gathering moss, fairly swiftly. Again I thought I’d most likely get disapproval so I took myself to another part of the country and launched my writing career. Tbc