At six years old, I begged and pleaded my mother to help me make something. A few sheets of paper and shed loads of sellotape later, my first book was made. All it needed was words. I wrote a story about a little girl who found a pony in her barn. Hardly a literary masterpiece, but the instant that first story was written, I knew I had to be a writer.
My mind has always brimmed with ideas of stories and characters that demanded to be let loose. After a few disastrous attempts in my teen years, it is only now I have been able to start and finish an entire project. Early 2009 I sat down at my computer and I wrote a book.