I've wanted to be a writer for so long that sometimes it still takes me by surprise to realise that I am. I was brought up with my mother reading bedtime stories every night and my father telling long involved fables about our dog's Great Great Great Grandfather, who had travelled wherever we went and invented everything that we happened to see along the way. Travelling seems to have been a constant in my childhood, as Dad was in the Canadian air force and we not only moved frequently, but explored widely from each successive home.
If there was one significant moment, though, in my decision to write, it would be the night shortly before my seventh birthday when my parents left two Dick and Jane readers by my bed. I was an English-speaking child growing up in France, learning to read and write in French, and I've never forgotten the thrill of picking up these books and realising that I could read in my own language. Once I'd learned that I could have power over words on a page, the step of wanting to create those words followed naturally.