I’m often asked if I’ve always wanted to be a writer. The complex answer is that I felt a little at odds with the world when I was growing up, as though a piece of me was missing somehow.
As a child and teenager I read widely, pretty much anything age appropriate (and not so age appropriate …) at my small, local library, as well as all the Marvel comics and some obscure reference books in the non-fiction section. There was nowhere to sit in the grown-up area, so I sat on the floor with my back against a bookcase and hoovered up information. Then I tackled my parents’ book shelves and fell in love with Dickens, Raymond Chandler, Margaret Mitchell, Victoria Holt, the Brontës, Tolkien, the Forsyte saga, Karen Blixen, and much more. It was clear I was destined to be a reader, at least.
But something still eluded me.
Originally from Northern Denmark, which is inhabited by intensely practical people, I did the sensible thing and studied Languages and Linguistics. While I was a student, I had several jobs – supermarket cashier, bartender, waitress, cleaner. Afterwards I worked for the Danish civil service, then in London for a travel agent, a consultancy company, in banking, hospital administration, a county court and an estate agent, then, finally as a translator. In that time I discovered that life was all around me, in all its splendid messiness, and I had to put my thoughts and observations to paper.
I’d found my missing piece. To put it more simply: yes, I was always meant to be a writer.
These days, I feel fulfilled and enjoy spending time with my fictional characters, as well as the real people in my life. Thank you again for stopping by my website!