I can’t remember when Ifirst fell in love with story writing, but I remember when I first fell in lovewith stories. As a child, my parents read tome every day; it was my favourite time. We adventured through magical worldstogether, and I imagined my friends as Ratty and Mole from Wind in theWillows or the Giant from The BFG.

When I was very young, Mum kept me safe from the harshnessof life; I believed the Gingerbread Man escaped and lived a long, happy life.Dad made me giggle by calling Nurse Plum Nurse Bum. They always used differentvoices for each character — Dad excelled at this.

As I grew, I went on adventures alone and devoured fantasystories. Some of the greatest came thanks to my big brother, who introduced meto Tolkien — a gift I’m forever grateful for.

One of my favourite things is reading to the children in mylife, and yes, I always use different voices — that’s the rule.

Life taught me about loss, and I learned that not everyonegets a long, happy ever after. With loss came a deeper understanding of theimportance of people’s stories and voices. I’ve learned that everyone has astory to tell; each life and experience is unique, which makes themfascinating.

My childhood love of imagined adventures turned into apassion for travel. I take as many adventures as I can.

I still love escaping into a good story, but what gives meimmeasurable joy now is hearing other people’s adventures. Ordinary storiesremind me how extraordinary people really are.