So, once upon a time there was a little girl. She wrote stories, lots and lots of them, some of them were even quite good.
When she grew up she got a job as an actor in a small community theatre company, this involved doing lots of other things like acting as wardrobe mistress, creating and facilitating workshops and, occasionally, writing short plays and sketches. It was a job she loved that involved all her favourite things. She did other things too like working in a theatre in the Box Office, waitressing, temping, anything at all to pay the bills while still being able to continue with her first love.
Then she had children and got married and acting didn't seem so important, especially when school wasn't such a good fit for her eldest son and she started home educating him.
The girl stopped acting and she stopped writing, there were waaay too many other things to do; trips to museums, castles, parks, days out with H.E groups, working on the allotment and house, cooking, baking, knitting, spinning, playing, reading, etc, etc ad infinitum.
Then one day the children weren't so little, the eldest was on the verge of leaving home, the others were increasingly independent and all of a sudden she had some free time on her hands, she also had a story in her head that was bursting to come out. One problem, she was out of practice so she decided the best way to get back into practice was to write, and write, and write some more.
So that's what this is, my attempt to get back in the saddle.
Now I have to go I have to feed the beasts...oops, I mean children.
Watch this space...