The dark nights were setting in. I'd been in hibernation for most of the summer, writing scenes of love, death, new beginnings and happily ever afters. The leaves were falling off the trees and I dreamed of a life where I could escape the wind and rain and live happily on a beach.
Why do you write?
The question glared at me from the interview email and I flashed back twenty years.
I'd been sitting on my mums bed when she was unwell. Her body was fine, but something made her stay in bed all day. I crept out of the room after another failed attempt at getting her up.
The book sat on my bed and I picked it up as I crawled under my own cover. I'd grasped words at a very young age and often got lost in the world of Fanny, Beth and Joe. The Far Away tree took us to lands that were not only fun and exciting, but very far away from my council house in England.
I started to write my answer to the question but then decided to cross it out. My fictitious worlds might seem like they're just popular genre stories, but there's more to them than meets the eye. So I wrote the simple truth:
Because Enid Blyton gave me hope as a child when life got tough. I want to bring hope and happily ever afters to as many people as I can with my words.