All Posts

There are moments when life feels like it’s handing you a metaphor with a bow on it. Last Friday, somewhere between Dijon and the Italian border, we had one of those moments. We’d pumped up a flat tyre the night before, hoping it would magically behave itself for the long drive. It didn’t. Of course it didn’t.

One of the constants in my writing life is that real experiences are fundamental in my fiction. Sometimes it’s a location I know well. Sometimes it’s a conversation I once had, or a character trait borrowed from someone I met years ago. It’s never a direct lift, and it’s never the whole story. But on The Story Behind My Stories, there isn’t that same layer of distance. When I talk about what inspired a scene or why a character behaves the way they do, I’m talking about the re

People often assume writers know the ending from the moment they begin. As if the story arrives fully formed, waiting to be typed up in a neat, linear line from Chapter One to The End. But that’s not how it works. Not for me, and not for most writers I know.

That moment, the first reader, is the heartbeat of my ARC team. The first to turn the page.