Because I have kids. There. Done. Finished.
Okay, it’s not that simple. It never is. When I first sat down to write a book, six years ago, I had a story in my head that I’d first plotted back in 1989, whilst I was in university. I figured that if the story was still with me after 20 years, then it needed to be written down, if only to exorcise that particular shade.
|My first imaginary world looked a bit like this|
But, having gone to all that trouble to reclaim my writing skills, I was reluctant to let them slide again so I started a new story. All along, my children had been watching me chip away at the big ‘un and they knew that Dad was writing a book so they kept asking when I would write them a story, one they could read, since the first one, they knew, was for older readers. Well, now was the time.
|Inspiration for my second book!|