I've been a father for seven years, and a writer for as long as I can remember. Well, maybe not that long. But I remember typing short stories on my father's typewriter long before the internet took the world in its vice-like grip. Needless to say, none of those stories made it past the bin (hey, it was pre-recycling days), but I've written some articles that have appeared in newspapers, and forged a reasonably successful online presence as a sportswriter. Then two years ago, I just stopped. I needed a break, take a different direction. I started writing a novel. I didn't just sit down and start banging out words. The story was already there. I had written it in my head as I stalked the stacks of the library I work at, and just needed to put it on "paper". Now, after squeezing in time to write while life interfered, I'm on the verge of publishing it by the end of the year. Watch this space...
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