I Always Wanted to Be a Writer
I Always Wanted to Be a Writer — Even Before I Knew What Writing Really Was
Some people discover writing later in life. For me, it was there from the very beginning — long before I understood grammar, structure, or even how to spell half the words I wanted to use. I just knew one thing: I wanted to tell stories. I wanted to capture them, hold onto them, and somehow turn the worlds in my head into something real.
My earliest memory of writing isn’t of school or teachers. It’s of me, a kid in the 1970s, walking into a shop with my pocket money and buying a writing pad. Not toys. Not lollies. A writing pad. That was my treasure.
I’d take it home, sit cross‑legged in front of the TV, and watch shows like Lost in Space, Land of the Giants, and all the other sci‑fi adventures that lit up my imagination. While other kids just watched, I wrote. I’d fill page after page trying to recreate the entire episode — the story, the action, even the dialogue. I didn’t know it then, but I was teaching myself how stories worked. I was learning pacing, character, tension, and emotion without a single writing lesson.
I was just a kid with a pen, a pad, and a head full of worlds.
The Star Wars Writing Pad
Then came 1977 — the year everything changed.
Star Wars hit the screen, and like millions of kids around the world, I was blown away. But I didn’t just watch it. I documented it. Every time I saw the movie — and yes, I saw it 13 times — I’d come home, grab my writing pad, and write down everything I remembered. Scenes. Lines. Characters. The feeling of it all.
I didn’t realise it then, but I was basically writing my own version of the Star Wars novelisation. From the screen to the page, I was translating the movie into a story the way I experienced it. It was my first taste of adaptation, memory, and storytelling from emotion rather than accuracy.
Those pages are long gone now, but the spark they lit never went out.
The Primary School Project That Changed Everything
One of my favourite memories is a project I did in primary school. We had to create our own book — write it, illustrate it, and then record ourselves reading it onto a cassette tape. I still remember sitting in the school library, typing the story on a big, clunky typewriter. The keys were heavy, the ribbon smudged, and the whole machine sounded like it was trying to escape the desk.
But I loved it.
That was the moment I realised something important: If I wanted to be a writer, I needed to learn how to type.
So before I even reached high school, I taught myself. I practised constantly. By the time I started Year 8 and took typing classes, I was already ahead. By the end of the first year, I could type 80 words per minute — a skill that would shape the rest of my creative life.
The Birthday That Set Everything in Motion
Mum must have seen how serious I was, because one year she bought me my very own typewriter for my birthday. It was one of the best gifts I ever received. I set it up, loaded the paper, and immediately started writing scripts, stories, scenes — anything that came into my head.
That typewriter became my first real creative partner. It was loud, stubborn, and unforgiving… but so was my determination.
I didn’t just want to write. I needed to write.
A Lifelong Love
Looking back now, it’s obvious: writing has always been part of who I am. It’s the thread that runs through every decade of my life — from scribbling TV episodes in the 70s, to typing scripts in the 80s, to turning those early ideas into the stories I publish today.
And here’s the funny part: They never had AI back then. No shortcuts. No instant rewrites. No digital tools. Just imagination, paper, and the sound of a typewriter hammering out dreams one key at a time.
I’ve always loved writing. I always will. And every book I create now — including The Dark Secret of Ian’s Peak — carries a little piece of that kid from the 70s, sitting in front of the TV with a writing pad and a head full of stories waiting to be told.
