Do birds love to fly?

It's only twelve days to go before my book is published. It looks so weird when I read that. From over a year to publication date; it seems such a long time. It's not the first book - the first was published in Germany in 2004, but this is the first in the UK, and therefore special, to me, at least.
When I was nine, my grandmother had a poem, which I had written in a creative writing lesson, entered into a national poetry competition and subsequently published. She wrote in the accompanying letter, 'This is your beginning as a published author.` She always believed I could do it, even though I had little self-confidence. I'll always be grateful for her. She was the first who planted the dream-seeds in my heart. Dream-seeds which just need time and faith to germinate, grow and produce fruit. I held on to what she had given me and 37 years later they're bearing fruit.

No-one else can make your dreams come true, only you can. There have been a number of people who have played an important role in my life, who didn't believe that writing was what I ought to be doing. They thought that I should be concentrating on things which they thought were important. This is because these people were legalistic and lacked imagination. They couldn't help it - they were taught to be that way by others, but it put a damper on me for a while, until I was able to break free of their control and decided that I didn't need their approval to do what I knew was real to me.
There were a few people who encouraged me - Judith, Lou, Anke and Guido immediately spring to mind, and if they ever read this, they should know that I will always be grateful to them, and always remember them for it.

Why do I want to write? That's like asking, 'Why do you want to breathe?' How can I not write? It's how I'm made. I wrote and illustrated stories for my siblings and cousin when I was little, I was always writing snippets of stories on scraps of paper, which I still have, and I have books of poetry hidden away, just as you have. I'm nobody special and what I write is of little consequence in a world which is full of books and important, clever authors. But I've been given a bit of the creative spark, and I LOVE writing! So how can I not?
OK, write, you might say. But why do you want to get published? Why do you want other people to read what you write? Isn't that egotistical? Am I egocentric to be writing this blog? Probably. Why not just write it in a private diary? Why give other people the chance to read it? I don't know. It's kind of fun to see it online, I guess. Plus it's a chance to have contact with others - build friendships across the ether, perhaps. And I have a fire burning in my heart - a message, which I long to communicate to others, in whatever way I can. Books are one way. So this is the way I'm made, and writing makes me 'come alive', to quote John Eldredge, so that's what I do, because I love doing it. I wonder if birds enjoy flying?

I write for children and teens, but they have to be stories which adults like too. In fact, I think that the best stories written for children and teens will appeal to all ages, because they have something timeless about them. I keep reading Tolkein, Jane Austen and other authors for the same reason. C.S. Lewis said that he liked writing the stories which he would like to read himself. I think that's what every author must think, although, having written a book, and gone to all that work, I feel it's rather boring to have to read it all through again. I've lost count of the number of times I've read what I've written.

Anyway, my ten complimentary copies should be arriving any day soon, and those encouraging folks are going to get their signed copy, for what it's worth.