As a child, I wanted to be a hero, like the ones on tv or in films. And so, I made up stories. At first, the stories were mental fantasies, waking dreams in the daytime or imagined adventures at night. But, as soon as I’d learned how to spell and print words, I started to write. 

I suppose it was a way of experiencing something more exciting than school and, later, more exciting than work. Something to take me away from the mundane, everyday world, but I never seemed to have the time or discipline to finish anything other than short stories, which is when Jonah came into my life.

I started life in South London, a boy playing on the streets, surrounded by a large family who all lived within walking distance of each other. Then I moved away, to the country and played in woods and made camps, exhilarated by the excitement and freedom. Since then, I’ve lived in many places, in the UK and abroad, some exciting, some not. 

Now, I live by the sea in Southern England and, with fewer distractions, I’ve found more time to write, and more time to spend with Jonah, sharing the streets and the lives of him and the people who inhabit his world.