I started writing as soon as I realised I could translate all the mad things that happened in my head into words, write them down and suddenly turn my ‘head in the clouds’ nature into something people admired as opposed to told me off for. I am a junkie for praise so that was an obvious win. I was also, let’s be honest, one of those kids that just always seems to be getting it wrong. If there was a way to get underfoot, I’d be under it, if there was a wrong thing to say or wear, I’d have said or worn it, if there was a wrong thing to be good at, I’d be good at it, if there was a right thing to be good at, I’d be phenomenally bad at it. I did OK at my school-work but that aside, I wasn’t sure there was a place on earth where I wouldn’t be always screwing up.
I am of course now incredibly cool and popular and not a shadow of that remains… 🤥 Maybe.
Certainly I’m happier and a lot less lonely.
But, at the time, the only place I really felt I excelled, was inside the stories in my head. It wasn’t always pleasant in there, there were threats and demons and darkness, and good did not always win overall, but whatever the landscape one thing was constant – I was always absolutely brilliant! I was dignified and strong, brave and charismatic and I always ALWAYS got it right.
I don’t feel the need to escape any more. In fact, as an adult, I have been lucky enough to be able to surround myself with people and places where I do well, just for being who I am. But I’m still telling stories. My head remains firmly in the clouds and the clouds remain populated with both angels and ghouls.
Humans have always learned through stories. It is how we form our identity. We become the people we tell ourselves we are, which is our blessing, and also our curse. I like to tell stories that centre on people, in all their terrible beauty, and I feel the same joy in it whether I’m writing characters I want to escape to, or characters it would be wiser to escape from. And aren’t we all a bit of both, if we’re honest?
I’m writing for the love of it now, and not for company. And I’m writing, a little, for that lonely me, who never got it right, and for all those out there, whoever they are, who can’t help feeling like they always get it wrong.
You don’t. You never did. You will find your place. And it won’t have to be imaginary.
With best wishes, whatever you are working on or though,
Katie
What I’ve been up to, and what I’m working on now…
My newest book, Unforgotten Monsters, explores the murkiness of memory. A woman finds herself in a mysterious village. But she’s not sure how she got there or what she was running from. If she can discover that, or what the village is, she might not be so keen to leave. And can she?
Puck’s Legacy is about what happens when you escape from reality into fiction, and whether it’s possible to return. It’s also about drama, love and extremism, but mostly it’s about obsession. It was a beast to write, and a brutal little beast at that, but I’m in love with everybody in it.
My other book, Memories of a Lost Thesaurus revolves around a four people and a flooded block of flats. Everyone has something to fix – but the flood is the least of it. It’s about bullying, and blame, and being trapped.
I have several other novels on the go – (I’m capricious, what can I say?). To be Frank has been drafted and is ‘resting’ in my drawer because I know very well it is going to be an evil little beast to edit. Of Butterflies and Brushes is the next one to come out, and is currently being ruthlessly edited. Watch this space…