Most of my life, my head has been stuck inside the pages of a book. Reading stories, as a child, and writing a diary as I grew into a woman. 

I remember my dreams being hoisted up by a Mrs Billingham, my Secondary School teacher. One day, in class, she asked each of us what we wanted to do when we left school. As the opportunity to express myself got nearer to me, my heart pounded. I was a relatively quiet and shy kid, and the thought of speaking in front of anyone kind of made me want to curl up and hide. But, somehow, I managed to pluck up the courage to say what I wanted to be: a writer.

Mrs Billingham's smile beamed and my cheeks burned. She announced proudly to the class, "We have a budding author in our midst!"
 
From that moment on, I involved myself in the drama class, emersed myself in the library and learned all I could about writing.