Every wondered why someone wants to write a book? is it for fame? money? or maybe just stubbornness and to inspire those with dyslexia, who often feel they cannot enjoy stories and fiction.
The last year and a half I have been working tirelessly to write my debut novel that I can only explain the vibe as Pirates of the Caribbean (2003) – meets – The Mummy (1999) with a dash of Carry On slapstick and humour. I started this writing process in January 2023, with an idea blooming in December 2022, with the intention to write a book I wanted to read. After months of writing and falling deep into plot holes, I’m nearing that stage of editing where I have the confidence that the story is cohesive enough to let other people read my work – both an exciting and mildly terrifying prospect. With the book spanning 131k words, it has been hard work from conception, planning, writing and now editing. I am slowly moving towards the process of writing query letters to literary agents.
But why?
But my decision to write a book has not been an idea marinating in my head for the last year, but a choice that unknowingly I’ve been harbouring since childhood. My love of stories and storytelling has its roots firmly in my childhood and my education. At school I never quite understood what was going on or how everyone knew what to do or the answers to the constant questions. But I always understood stories and they formed my favourite part of the school day. To me, stories were vibrant, endless and safe. Books are a place where I wasn’t judged for not quite being able to keep up academically. While I struggled to read the words on the page, I was mesmerised by what my imagination could conjure when books were read aloud, watching television or theatre shows.
Little did I know what I was experiencing wasn’t down to me being stupid or not paying attention, but dyslexia. When I was around 7 or 8 years old my parents took me to an external English tutor who concluded after various tests – which I can’t remember aside from eating a biscuit I was given – that I have mild dyslexia. This meant I can mask my struggles enough to get by but don’t thrive in education. It was common for me to guess what the words on the page said via interpretation of the pictures, which made things a little tricky when faced with picture-less books. There are several core memories where my dyslexia was prominent and no teacher stepped in to help me through my struggles. I like to think that these memories have fuelled my stubbornness to read and write creatively in spite of those who stopped me. I am unimaginably grateful for my parents help and support, because without them noticing the problem I would have continued to slip between the academic net.
The first memory was when I was in school and my class was learning in the computer suite when I around 5 or 6. I had trouble spelling my surname and logging into the computer. Usually the teacher would help all the students log in, but on this occasion when I asked to help type my surname into the computer the teacher couldn’t be bothered to help and asked one of my peers to type my name into the computer instead. Now this appears like a simple solution to the problem I was having, yet it was not. This situation made me feel humiliated rather than pulled aside to help me learn to spell, I was cast aside. It was my mum who spent the summer holidays getting me up to speed with my reading and spelling. We would sit with flashcards and she bought what I can only describe as the entirety of the Magic Key book series for me to read. Together we reached a level where I wasn’t as severely behind my peers. I still struggled, but I developed self-taught coping mechanisms.
The second memory, that could quite easily be my villain origin story, is when I wasn’t allowed to continue reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. At the time the Harry Potter films were being released and made up a huge part of my childhood. When Deathly Hallows was published in 2007, I was keen to read along with my peers at school, who were also devouring the series. This is a memory that still makes me angry that I let something so small impact my confidence and joy. As anyone who has been through the UK education system will know the humiliating activity where everyone was required to read to the teacher individually during quiet reading time. So there I was walking happily with my copy of Harry Potter in hand, where I reached chapter 30 – I was very pleased with my progress albeit slow. I sat with my teacher and opened my book and began painfully reading. However, when it took me a much longer to read through a paragraph, my teacher told me to stop reading the book and find something more suitable to my reading level and gave me a book with only several sentences on the page and big pictures. Now, looking back I understand that this was probably the kindest thing to do from a professional stance when I was struggling to read. This may seem like an insignificant comment or experience but it eroded my confidence in reading and made me feel isolated from my peers, who had read the Harry Potter books multiple times and I couldn’t even finish one book. I would like to mention that I have now read all the books in the series and can confidently feel superior to that one primary school teacher. In hindsight I was fighting a losing battle because Deathly Hallows is a big book and my least favourite, but that aside schools should encourage students to pursue their interests and find their way through to succeeding.
I’ve carried these experiences around with me and it has shaped and pushed me to do well in spite of all those who thought I’d never attend University or succeed academically. These are just several examples and I know there are other people who have similar experiences or worse that have eroded their confidence and self-belief. I’m writing this with a BA English Literature and History degree, a Master degree in Museums, Galleries and Contemporary Culture and a debut manuscript nearing completion marked to query to literary agents. In those moments where self-doubt creeps in and I think my work isn’t good enough I become fuelled with spite to continue pushing to achieve my goals despite my struggles. I write for the version of me that couldn’t write her own name, I write for the version of me that was told she couldn’t keep up with her peers, for the version of me who thought university was a delusion. I write for those who are not academic, but are creative and want to feel immersed in a fictional world.
My debut novel is an adult adventure fantasy where my female protagonist defies a pre-conceived destiny and along the way realises that the more you fight your passions, the more it bites back. It is a story of class, fate, magic, friendship and self-discovery that takes place at sea where lost souls and sea beasts claw at their ship and the roll of a dice is enough to change tides. Just on the off chance a fantasy literary agent who loves a book where Pirates of the Caribbean – meets – The Mummy – meets – Carry On slapstick is reading this…I have a manuscript ready and waiting.
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Amy is a writer and reviewer and is currently writing and editing her debut fantasy novel that she hopes to pitch to literary agents and publishers shortly. For more content click here to read book reviews, short stories and updates on Amy’s writing journey.
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