: About Me

I always wanted to be a writer. When my children were small I would tell them a story I had made up when they went to bed. When they went to boarding school, they were still quite young, and my letter to them were often stories I had written. And illustrated.

Some years ago, I took the brave step of sending a short story to a publisher of a local magazine. It was accepted and published and there was some comment in my circle of friends about it. I had already sent two more stories to the editor, and then another , and another. Not all were accepted of course, but the editor kindly explained why, when stories were turned down, so it was a great learning experience.

Recently, I started writing again, after a five year break. I live in another country now. Having joined a writers' group has helped me to focus and find new ideas. There is a lot of encouragement; the friendly suggestions for improvement have been helpful. I can recommend joining a group of writers, especially if there are at least a few among them who are at the same level of skill and experience.

My passion is ...

painting and art

I know too much about ...

English language

My parents always told me ...

I'd never make a living as a writer and an artist

My childhood ambition ...

to be a writer and artist

My favorite memory ...

travel experiences

Why I write ...

I don't know.

What I am reading/watching/listening to ...

new fiction, short stories

My first job ...

Secretary in a film production organisation

My best moment ...

winning a prize for my photograph in a competition

My inspiration ...

Wild countryside; classical music - especially Mozart

Arts & Humanities > Philosophical Concepts Figuring out one's personal identity

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It started at about six years of age. Before that, I knew who I was. I always knew I was a girl. Female. I knew I was human, like my parents. I wasn't a dog, or a budgerigar, or a grasshopper. I knew I needed to eat human food. Dog biscuits do not taste the same as biscuits for humans. In fact, the dog (a great Dane cross) - although he loved biscuits for humans - was not allowed to eat biscuits for humans; they were bad for him. So I was told by my parents. This was confirmation that I was not a dog (as if I needed confirmation). Perhaps it was more important that the dog knew he was not ...

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