I spent a large part of my formative years at the bottom of the garden, in the shady patch behind the privet bushes where the fairies live. Grudgingly, I learned to read and write. I survived school and was initially employed as apprentice floor sweeper in a factory making parts for nuclear power plants. After a week of this I decided to run away to Paris to be an Artist. It was an instructive, if not entirely successful adventure and I returned to England to find work variously as an apple picker, mural painter, scaffolder's mate and assistant to Santa Claus. Eventually I attempted to get a proper job. I trained as a therapist and worked successfully in private practice for ten years but one day I wandered into a Deep Dark Forest where, at a lonely crossroads, I took a seldom trod path.
I now work as a writer, storyteller and performer and live on the edge of a wild windy hillside in Sussex where skylarks sing in summer. I am married and blessed with three amazing children. Writing, reading and telling stories are my favourite things to do.
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