About

My favourite books often have a touch of the magical about them. At the same time, I love fierce writing that reaches into the depths of the human experience. 

 Although born on Merseyside, I grew up in Leeds. But my first memories are of the Isle of Man, where I lived as a small child. For that short but crucial time, an enchanted island was my entire world. When my family relocated to West Yorkshire (my dad being lured by a brass band), I grew up dreaming of fairies and of the sea (I still do). I believed passionately in the Manx fairies. In my blooming imagination, as we hurtled away from my Fairy Glen and the headland of Bradda looming over the waves, I conjured an idea. A fairy was holding my hand. Of course, I reasoned, they’d never truly let me leave them.

And so, the stories began.

Growing-up in a working-class family in the 1980s, in an industrial northern town, came with a series of closures. The factories (including my dad’s), pits, even my school closed. The area around where I lived was flattened. Some of land, including my old school and playground, became a carpark and the rest was simply abandoned. The surrounding community was moved from the maze of Victorian red brick houses (now rubble) to newly built council estates. My street, being over the big road, was all that was left, a lone satellite in a wasteland. This was fertile ground for someone looking for stories, for magic that grows through cracks in the concrete. I found it in daydreams, in books, and in music.

At twelve, David Bowie turned my world upside down. So, I listened, dreamed more, and obsessed over his every word. I paid very little attention to school. It was boring, with its rules and humiliations, not a place for dreamers. In truth, I hated secondary school. Yet to understand the value and beauty of study, I gave no thought to passing exams. Somehow though, I fell in love with theatre. In particularly with Shakespeare (he saw fairies, too!).

In my early twenties I moved to London to embark on an acting career and to work in a record shop. At thirty, I moved to Paris to continue my theatre journey, training at the Jacques Lecoq School before creating a theatre company. Although deeply passionate about my theatre work, something seemed to be tugging at my sleeve. Maybe it was the fairy, still hiding in my pocket.

I started to write.

After almost a decade in Paris, and with no real idea why or what I was going to do, I returned to London and found work in a shoe shop. Writing became as important as the air in my lungs. At the age of forty, searching clarity, I gained a place at Birkbeck University to study Creative Writing, earning myself a first class honours degree. When my first real short story, Angel Eggs, was highly commended by The Bristol Short Story Prize, I decided to write a novel.

During this time, I was struck with debilitating pain.

First it was my hands, then my feet. Some days I couldn’t walk or stand, couldn’t use my hands at all, not even to feed myself. The normal routines of daily life left me in agony and tears. After a year of seeking help, I was given a diagnosis of Rheumatoid Arthritis, a systemic auto-immune disease. Learning to manage pain and living with a chronic illness is a shock. The heavy immune suppressants I inject have difficult side-effects. But along with other medications, they reduce my pain, allowing me (mostly) good mobility and giving me back the use of my weakened hands. My illness has brought me to the world of disability advocacy. Disability and illness don’t discriminate, neither do they lessen us as humans. We all deserve equality and to live without harmful ableist tropes. I’m still learning what this means as I try to use my voice to promote fairness and inclusion, wherever and however I can.

After completing my degree at Birkbeck, I finished writing my debut novel and found a brilliant literary agent. A Girl Made of Air was published in the midst the COVID pandemic in 2020. It wasn’t the debut experience I’d always imagined. Due to my illness, I was now in the vulnerable category and even between the lockdowns needed to shield. But my book was out in the world!

I've had many jobs over the years, working in shops, cafes, kitchens and most recently in an art gallery. These days I write. I don’t know how long I can sustain writing full-time, but while I do I bless each day and thank the fairy who continues to hold my hand, especially when pain and the struggle of illness is overwhelming. Right now, I live on the edge of London, with my husband and our large tabby cat, Noodle.

My second novel, Sycorax, described by the publisher as a beautifully written and deeply moving imagining of what came before Shakespeare's The Tempest, will be published by Quercus in February 2025.