Writing is a bug, and I caught it very early on in life. Until recently I couldn’t put an exact ‘age’ on it but, when my parents cleared their loft out recently, they found a mountain of old school stuff of mine. It was from this that I can tell you exactly how old I was because, in amongst that pile of old exercise and text books, I found ‘The Poem / Story Book Special’ that I wrote when I was nine years old.
Among the classics that it contained were ‘The Boy Who Cried Chocolate,’ ‘The Teacher,’ ‘The Boys Holiday,’ and ‘The Footballer,’ and reading them reminded me of just how special words had been to me at an early
