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BEVERLY JONES.
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MY PROFILE.
I have been interested in writing since I was able to pick up a pen. Ask my Mum. She will tell you about the doodles I use to leave on my bedroom wall as a toddler.
At school, I remember getting house points for the stories I wrote. I remember writing my own version of Worzel Gummidge, and the teacher was so impressed with it I had to stand up in front of the whole class and read it out loud. This would have been enough to scare some children into acting dumb with future assignments, but not me. I loved the attention. I couldn’t understand why the teacher thought what I wrote was good enough to influence the rest of the class. If it gained me house points though, who was I to grumble? I was oblivious to the tittering that went on behind my back. Just as well, or I might not be sat here writing about my experiences for you to read.
Well, that was all it took, as well as being blessed with a vivid imagination and creative genes to get this interest going.
When I went to High School I met Tony. I would sit and stare at him across the Science Lab. to get his attention. I fancied the pants off him and knew no other way of letting him know (understandable as I was only fifteen at the time). My infatuating glances became the butt of his peers’ conversation. It took a while for Tony to realise that it was him I was looking at and not his gorky looking friends, and after apologising for the initial embarrassment we began to see each other on a regular basis. I would use my creative talent to concoct poems that would show him how much I loved him. Teenage love… How sweet!
The poems done the trick and I married him in 1983. The following year we had a son, Daniel and two and a half years later, a daughter, Rachel.
All thoughts of writing flew out of the maternity wards’ window, and the next few years were taken up 100% with children.
Tony was working full time as a Paramedic and I fit into his shift pattern by working anywhere that the hours suited. As most young families know, times like these are hard and Tony and I could barely remember what each other looked like as we worked all hours. We only seemed to meet when we were passing toddlers backwards and forward when one of us was going out to work and the other coming home.
Once the children reached school age we slowly began to feel our lives were returning.
I managed to squeeze in a couple of courses at night school. I found that opting for the hands on approach was much easier while the kids were still young and dependent. I wanted to do something that would help me relax and not be too demanding on my flagging brain. I opted for Cake Decorating and Needlework. This allowed me time for myself and was enough to keep the creative juices flowing.
It was about this time that I began to re-develop my knack for writing poetry and rhyme. Anniversaries and Birthdays came and I would make cards instead of buying them, mainly to save my precious pennies and would add a verse, personalised to the recipient.
I got rather good at this and found any spare time I had would be used to scribble down ideas that came into my head. Usually this was an abundance of clutter but I would always manage to make some sense out of it. Within no time at all I had written a quirky, little poem. I would just write whatever entered my head without thinking about it too much. I would have a mess around to see how I could develop it into something that sounded readable.
This is how I still work today. I have scraps of paper left in places around the house where inspiration strikes. Then now and again I gather them all together and place them safely, where I can find them when I have time to write.
Children, now grown up, you would think that I have plenty of time on my hands. I suppose I have, but it is how you fill it that decides whether or not you feel the benefit. Every time I have a spare morning, I fill it with a weeks work.
You see, I’m not the sort of person that can sit with my feet up, glass of wine in hand, watching the latest episode of Eastenders.(although I must admit, Coronation Street tends to make me dither around the box.) If I am watching a film, I am secretly planning my day ahead, working out what I have to do, who I need to call, where I have to go. And with any luck I may be able to find time to squeeze in taking the dogs for a walk, doing the shopping and re-potting that plant that only has a couple more days of life left. Yes… I’ll definitely do that first thing tomorrow. I can’t be responsible for ‘death by neglect’ of the fuchsia we were bought for an anniversary present five years ago.
If the fuchsia dies, so will our marriage. I MUST re- pot it first thing in the morning!
So as you can see, things haven’t changed that much. I still don’t have much time for writing. Only this time it is due to the fact that I have set up my own writing group, thinking that I would have to make time for my writing. Can’t organize a group of people who want to write if I don’t have a dabble myself, can I?
I have been writing loads since the group got off the ground, but not the usual creative stuff. Instead I am spending my time writing begging letters for funding, articles about our group for the local newspaper, promotional flyers and posters, items for our web-site, all technical stuff that keeps the group moving. All that’s worth while and essential to the success of the group. And what a success it has become.
People have said how amazed they are at what we have achieved in such a short time. It has been hard work, but as you know by now, ‘hard work’ is my middle name. I don’t do anything by half, and if there is something out there that needs doing, I attack it with full throttle.
So now you know me, what I get up to and how I got into writing as a living. I was going to put ‘hobby’, but writing has literally taken over my life. Tony has to book an appointment to see me and the poor kids are living on Pot Noodles.
Why do I do it you may ask? Do I want to become a famous novelist? Earn thousands of pounds? See my little, stubby, nail- bitten hand imprints on the walk of fame?
No. I do it because I enjoy every minute of it. I love to write, whether it is stories,
Poetry, prose or letters to my wonderful mum and dad, who I thank dearly for giving me a creative mind.
You’ll be pleased to hear that the fuchsia did get re-potted. It’s standing proud with its’ new shoots just popping through...And Tony and I are still married, celebrating twenty-one blissfully happy years this year!
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