A young writer from the UK with big ideas, and an even bigger passion for words. A multigenre author of both novels and short fiction, Gary has a flare for the suspenseful, the frightening, and the unknown.
My writing journey begun about as far back as I can remember. I have distinct memories of near-obsession with Jurassic Park 1 & 2, and getting to work on writing the third. Jurassic Park 3: Dino-Crisis! I illustrated covers, wrote a shaky collection of words (probably incomprehensible), and bound them together in a mess of coloured scribbles and sketches. My first book. I think mum even let me use the stapler!
From there, my likes evolved beyond the Jurassic, and into the action-packed world of ass-kicking martial arts. Bruce Lee was a favourite, and it wasn’t long before I lost my heart to Dragonball Z. Like clockwork, in almost religious devotion, you could bet your last buck that my ass would be planted on our green, floral sofa at 5:00pm each day, with a cup of tea in one hand and a Rocky bar in the other. Any time spent away from DBZ on the screen, was spent sketching and drawing the characters from the series, alongside original characters in the same style. During this period, I wrote and illustrated a multitude of typical-seven-year-old comic strips and drawing tutorials.
I remember school to an extent. A lot of those memories centralise around lunchtimes and break times, mischief with friends, and playground fights. For the most part, school memories don’t involve much learning at all- in an academic sense, anyway. What I do remember, however, is loving any creative writing we ever got to do in English class. My teacher at that time was Mr Batey -imagine the jokes!- and he’d place objects in front of us, setting us a ten minute deadline to describe them in as vivid detail as possible. We’d get bonus points for metaphors, similes, alliteration, and all the fluffy bits. Shells. Flowers. Little trinkets and ornaments that he probably bought in from home, likely to the dismay of his wife. I loved this exercise, and as an extension to that, it was always my adverb littered, overly verbose passage that got read out at the end of class.
School and I had a funny relationship, and that only intensified when I hit secondary. The first day of school, everybody turns up exactly how they’re meant to. Tie knot straight, tight, and pulled up all the way to your buttoned-to-the-neck shirt, which was of course tucked all the way in. Shoes shined, blazer neatly buttoned over the top. That day is judgement free. But rules are learned, and decisions must be made, because how you turn up the second day, will define the rest of your five year stay in that prison. I decided to button down, wear my tie knot down between my nipples, untuck the shirt, and leave my blazer at home. Your typical rebellious type, from that day, until my last day. And that, dear reader, is both a promise, and a dare to myself.
TO BE CONTINUED