In all honesty I was feeling a wee bit lost. I had decided to eject my self from the life I had previously lead; I was a suit and I hated myself for it. But I was now also skint which meant the travelling had to be put on hold for a while. At that time only a few people new that I enjoyed writing and no one knew that I wanted to write a book and have it published. Below is my first ever blog:
Vic Bryant (friend and fellow wanderlust slave) visited Edinburgh last weekend for the first time. It was also the first time we’d met since we parted ways at a ferry landing in Thailand. Since then I decided I was going to tell the world my biggest secret; I wanted to be a writer. This might not seem such a big deal but when you come from the working class regions of the north east, or anywhere for that matter, telling people you want to write for a living is more shocking than telling people you’re addicted to heroin.
Vic had an interesting incite into the reasons I’d made this decision. She said it was my new ‘stamp’. Until now ‘traveller’ had been my stamp, or ‘training and development manager’ (my previous job) before that, and now I found myself not travelling or in the rat race. I was starting again.
Maybe she’s right (I fucking hope not) that I needed this ‘stamp’, I needed to put myself in a box or give my days a purpose. I like to think that it was passion that led me to reveal myself to the world.
Anyway, I’m a bloody writer and I couldn’t give a fuck who knows it.
A few weeks later I found Mcstorytellers and everything changed.
Mcstorytellers and Brendan Gisby gave me a platform for my work, even though my early work was shabby and very violent.
And now I find myself blogging on another of Brendan's websites and with a Novella that Brendan published for me. Although I have never met him I owe him a debt of gratitude that I doubt I will ever be able to repay as now I am no longer embarrassed to say I'm a bloody writer.