First Words

Where it all started

My very first writing book (1970 ish)

I’d like to say this is where it all started but that wouldn’t be quite true. I’m not one of those writers who always knew they wanted to be an author scribbling stories from the moment they could write. But I was fascinated by words – I confess to being that quirky child who enjoyed reading the dictionary – and I was a total bookworm, devouring stories as soon as I could read. Enid Blyton, Jack London, and Richard Adams were amongst my favourite authors. I was constantly making up scenes in my head, but other than schoolwork, I never wrote them down. My self-conscious self would have been terrified someone might read them and laugh at me.

I grew up in the Northeast with the image of an author being someone who lived in a big house, possibly with servants, probably in London. It never occurred to me that people had jobs and careers that involved books and stories.

It wasn’t until I enrolled on a Creative Writing course with the Open University in my thirties that I started putting pen to paper. I needed one more module to complete my degree in English language and literature and, if I’m honest, I was looking for a course that didn’t have yet another exam! Creative Writing was a brand new course for 2006 and I embarked on it without any expectations. I only needed a pass. However, once I’d started it was apparent I had so many words, running through my veins, mostly going to waste (to paraphrase Robbie Williams). Writing, it seemed, was in my blood and I gained a distinction.

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Until my dying day

‘Until my dying day’ was the very first creative words I’d written since school, although this wasn’t the original title. The first assignment of the OU course was a prompted free write followed by a passage of fiction. The prompt was –Guitar.

I immediately loved the connections and ideas forming in my mind, from my mam playing the guitar when I was a child; to the book of Irish ballads she had with its tattered green cover and Celtic writing; to visiting Dingle Bay on holiday in Ireland.

I kept coming back to one song she would play – The Spinning Wheel. It was about a girl having to sit and spin when she wanted to go and meet her lover. The only words I remembered were, “while my heart’s aching”, but after searching online I discovered this isn’t actually a line in the song. Either my memory was flawed or my mam made up her own lyrics. It didn’t matter – I had a theme.

I was only about five or six when we visited Ireland but I had strong memories of a wild landscape, a cove filled with jagged rocks and crashing waves. Here was my setting.

Dingle Bay

On the cliffs above the cove was a derelict schoolhouse. It had been built especially for the film Ryan’s Daughter and it’s isolated location had me thinking – Who might meet there?

Another search on the film and there she was – my protagonist.

I changed day to night and summer to winter to create more atmosphere for my story of lost love and longing.

Originally titled ‘An Impression on Dingle Bay,’ my story has been through many edits and a few different titles over the years. It was the first piece of fiction I ever submitted to a competition and, with the title ‘Waiting’, it was Longlisted with The Yeovil Literary Prize in 2019 in my first year of submitting which gave me so much encouragement. I knew it had something but it took another three years and a further twelve submissions before it finally found its home. So my advice is never give up on a piece of writing you truly believe in.

I have to thank David Sexton at Wensum Online Literary Magazine for loving this piece as much as I do. You’ll find ‘Until my dying day’ here:

Wensum Literary Magazine Issue 1 Winter 2023