I began writing stories when I was eleven. I would spend occasional weekends at my Grandparents, and whenever I had an interesting dream, I'd tell my Grandad all about it. Everyone thought I was "weird" but he didn't and he listened to every part of my dream as if it really happened. One weekend, my Grandad saw that I was feeling down, and when he asked what was wrong I told him I had no talent, no gifts but my sister had many. 

The next day he went out and bought me a notepad and a pen. He said "If there's one thing you have, it's an incredible imagination. Write your thoughts or your dreams down and see what happens." So I did. The stories on here are either dreams, daydreams or thoughts...you don't need a "talent" or "gift" to write them down, you just need the right support. He was mine. Even though he's gone, he still is. 

If you would like me to read your stories, drop me a message and I'll be happy to support you.