All my life I have told myself stories, even when they involved my dolls and toy horses, or lego dogs and horses (which the instructions were wrong about, so I made up my own). I am one of those people you see walking down the street talking to themselves. So far, no one seems to have noticed that there is more than person involved in these conversations, otherwise I would be living in a nice, comfy padded room by now.
I’ve been writing down bits of stories for nearly as long as I have been talking to myself, but could never carry anything through to full book length, so I consoled myself with reading every kind of fiction I could lay my hands on. When I got older and discovered librairies, I found myself stuck quite happily in the fantasy section with Terry Pratchett and Anne McCaffrey. To this day, the only books I buy in hardcover are Terry Pratchett’s new releases.
My first novel was a dystopian adult sci-fi, which I entered into a competition at the end of 2010. Having a deadline was what I needed to make me sit down and write. I am now at work on the second, a YA fantasy, the first in a trilogy.
I’ve lived in four different countries (currently I’m in South-East England) – my latest stint abroad was two and a half years in Peru where I learnt to dance salsa and got paid, for a while, to ride horses to Machu Picchu.