Why a novel? Why now?

I’ve always felt like I had stories living in my head, waiting (not always patiently!) to be told.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been scribbling down scenes, ideas and short stories – little moments between characters, what-ifs, missed chances, second chances. But for years, those stories mostly stayed on my laptop, in notebooks, or in that “one day I’ll do something with this” folder we all seem to have.

Part of the reason was simple: I just didn’t know how to get them out there. The world of publishing, self-publishing, “being an author” – it all felt a bit mysterious and a lot intimidating. I wrote because I loved it, but sharing those words with strangers? That was a different level of scary.

Writing a novel took that fear and turned the volume up. A short story is like a snapshot; a novel is more like a whole life you’re inviting people into. It took me a long time to find the right story, and even longer to find its voice – and mine. There were false starts, rewrites, moments of “this is rubbish” followed by tiny flashes of “maybe this isn’t so bad.”

But somewhere in the middle of all that doubt, something shifted. I realised that if these stories meant something to me, then maybe they might mean something to someone else too. And that was enough reason to be brave.

Now, I finally feel confident enough to let them go. To put them into the world and say, “Here you go – I hope this finds you at the right time.”

If you know me, you know I absolutely love Christmas – the lights, the music, the bittersweet mix of nostalgia and hope. So in the run-up to the big day, I’m hoping to share a few of my Christmas short stories, the kind of tales you can curl up with for half an hour and (hopefully) come away feeling a little warmer inside.

And beyond that? My next novel is in the works. It’s still taking shape, still finding its feet (and its heart), but it’s coming. I’m excited – and yes, still a bit terrified – to keep going on this journey.

Thank you for reading, for supporting, for being curious about the stories I’ve been carrying around for years. It means more than you know.