queer the shelves

Over the years, I’ve had many experiences as a writer that have carved themselves deep into my memory banks—some triumphant, some humbling, some downright surreal. But one moment stands out more vividly than most…

Being a writer can be isolating at times—okay, a lot of the time—so interaction is hugely important to me.

We write in such isolation, never knowing if the words will land. But there it was on the bookshelf of my perfect reader.

“Touch your nose.”
I stick out my tongue.
“Close your eyes.”
I touch my nose.

I spent my teenage years and early twenties writing, convinced this would be my big break into the genre.

After a couple of weeks moping around navel gazing, I pulled out my laptop, opened a Word doc and just started to write…

There are many things people assume about being a writer. That we spend long days gazing wistfully out windows. That we carry battered notebooks full of profound thoughts. That we understand the Oxford comma on a spiritual level…

I’m constantly experiencing new things that add to my happy memory bank. Although, there is possibly one memory that shines a little brighter than most.

It was the first time something I’d written had been accepted and approved, and for a shy kid with a lisp it offered a way to express myself and to be heard.

I was too frightened to even start, and instead read some more books, my escape from anything too difficult. Until…