Who Is Author Sam?

by | Feb 21, 2023 | About Sam | 0 comments

My earliest friends were twelve white rabbits. Six boys in blue waistcoats, and six girls in pink pinafores. Before you get your knickers in a knot about gender stereotypes, I was three years old, and doubtless influenced by Beatrix Potter’s delightful anthropomorphic bunnies.

I have a clear memory of going to the corner shop with my dad. When he held open the door for me, I loudly counted in my bunnies. “One, two, careful where you stand… three… not there… in pairs, please…” All the way to twelve, by which time every customer in the crowded shop had turned to watch.

Dad stood helplessly as I bossily marshalled my bunnies, and the customers shuffled aside to avoid squishing them.

Now I’m old enough to know better, my imaginary dragon friends scorch all stereotypes to ashes.

My earliest ambition was to become an independent reader. When I asked my dad why he wore reading glasses, he explained he couldn’t read without them. I begged and cried for magic glasses so I could read by myself.

You could say I was motivated.

I read Hans Andersen and the Brothers Grimm fairytales before I started school. Roman, Greek, and Norse mythology followed.

Imagine my utter horror and disgust when my infant school teacher wanted me to read Dick & Dora, Nip & Fluff. Too timid to refuse, I played dumb.

The teacher summoned my parents to a meeting to discuss my intellectual deficiencies. She said I was a slow learner with no academic capacity.

“Fluff is a big cat. She has a big basket.” 

Eye roll from tiny me.

“Fenrir, the monstrous wolf, was the son of the demoniac god Loki and a giantess, Angerboda.” 

Now, you’re talking! This was a story I could sink my milk-teeth into.

I freely admit to being an oddball precocious child. Burying myself in books was my favourite activity. Some childhood characteristics remain. My perfect day involves a bottomless mug of ginger tea and a new book. Bliss!

What I didn’t realise for a few years, was books are written by flesh-and-blood people. Inexplicably, I assumed they were pre-existing artefacts, and therefore finite. I sobbed my heart out one afternoon, fretting I would read every book ever made, and then what..?

When I discovered new books were written and published every day, I could barely contain my excitement. Not only would I never run out of amazing stories, but who knew? Maybe I could become one of those godlike creatures: an author?

Seriously, what is more godlike than creating worlds and populating them with individuals who live or die at the stroke of your pen? Or the tap of your keyboard?

I spent my teenage years filling countless notebooks with execrable poetry. Reams and reams of existential angst. Thankfully, the entirety ended up on a bonfire, but that’s another story.

High School English Literature classes were unmitigated bliss. An entire afternoon reading and discussing books!

Later, I paired my Bachelor of Education (Hons) with Literature & Media studies. All of which meant I knew how to read. But not how to write.

Becoming an author is not a frivolous activity. Tenacity, a willingness to learn, and a thick skin are prerequisites.

Dreams do come true!

But only if you put in the hard work to make them real.

I have released my debut fantasy novel, DragonSkin I The Goddess Reborn, into the wild.

DragonSkin II Restoration due mid year.

 

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