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It’s quite a day when you finally realise that the only person standing in your way is yourself. It isn’t the gatekeepers of the publishing world, it isn’t the quality of your own work, it isn’t plain bad luck, it’s very simply You.


I have spent nearly ten years figuring out what the point is, trying to understand why it is that I am here, what it is I came to achieve and how it is that I go about that. I know in my heart I’m a writer. It’s the one consistency in my life, the one thing that pulls me back no matter what else I try. From the poems I wrote as a child, to the songs I wrote as an adolescent, then the stories I wrote as an adult, they were all words that yearned to be brought to life in a way that only I was able to express them. Me. And yet for years I have sought approval, validation that I am worthy of the words I write and the way that I write them. But the validation has always been sought externally, when the only one who really needed to validate me was myself.


And this I believe is an affliction across the creative board. It is why us creatives seek solitude and hide our light under our own self-deprecating bushels. And there are many out there; unrealised talent that were it not for the paralysing fear of just wanting to be accepted for who we are, would be filling the planet with such beauty and authenticity that humanity could not fail to thrive and grow. It is the one true voice that should be sounding above the noise of all that tries to control us; both through our own doing and that of the collective.


Because that’s what I’ve come to realise -– the noise ‘out there’ is just a reflection of the noise ‘in here’, but on a larger scale. Inside me is a microcosm of all that is, packed into this perfect body that I move around in. The wars that rage, the sickness, the dissonance, the polarity, the doubt, the fear; it’s me on a grand scale. But there is also love, kindness, compassion, service, honour, humility, grace… the list goes on, and when it’s the positive bits about myself that I focus on rather than the negative, so that will be reflected into the world outside of me.


For years I felt the need to prove myself and that the only way to achieve that was to go through official channels, as if that would authenticate my writing, my talent. As if acceptance from one or two people out of the billions on the planet assured that the billions on the planet would recognise my worth. But one day I realised there was only one person that needed to realise my worth and that was me.


When I finally recognised all this and began projecting the authentic, confident, self-assured me into the world, so I realised that everything I needed was right here. I had the material already written, waiting like a patient child to be an expression of my true self. I have so much more in me that wants to express, and I now feel empowered to continue creating without expectations of what I think should be the end result but what I know from deep inside my very being. And I encourage others to do the same; throw off the self-inflicted expectations, the out-dated paradigms that dictate the how and the when. We are creative beings that came here to create in the only way each of us know how and by our own perfect design.


Don’t hold back for anything or anyone – be the one you came here to be.





I had my first novel published ten years ago and have only just released my second – Why the long wait? I hear you cry. I have two words for you: self worth.


I have always had the burning desire to write (poems, songs, stories), it has been the one constant in my whole forty-plus years, to the point where I have no choice but to do it; and deal with all that that brings with it. Because if I want someone to read my words I have to release them out into the world, and that’s where the fear lies. I know I’m not alone in this, many of us are out there with a burning desire to create and yet harbour a paralysing fear of judgement.


My first novel, Ring Around Rosie, which is a thriller for YA about child trafficking and prostitution, took on a life of its own to the point I had no choice but to write it. I stumbled on the topic by accident having originally thought I wanted to write about pirates and smuggling, but after researching smuggling, so human trafficking appeared and I was so horrified by what I learned that I couldn’t ignore what I was discovering. Thirteen years ago, it was still relatively unknown; now, thankfully there is more awareness. Not that awareness stops it being the second largest money-making business in the world after drugs – more so even than weapons!


By the time I came ready to release it, the need to get it out into the world to help create awareness of  child trafficking became greater than my fear of criticism and judgement. I had to get out of my own way at this point. But I had no idea what I was doing, how to go about publishing a book, or even what the process involved. My need for external validation drove me to go down the traditional publishing route, after all, to be ‘chosen’ by someone in the industry, to be considered as ‘worthy’ to have my book published, seemed like the most credible thing to do and what everyone else seemed to be doing. It’s worth mentioning here that I usually do the opposite to everyone else, having rebelled against most conformity my whole life – on the few occasions I have gone with the crowd, I find it’s rarely the way to go because it’s not being true to myself, only playing by rules I had nothing to do with making.


And so after months of judgement, criticism and rejection, with smatterings of hope in between – just enough to keep me locked into the machine; too fragile and battle-scarred to think I had any of my own credibility or self-worth – I went with a very small publishing company that mostly left me to my own devices. The upshot being that my book didn’t receive the coverage I had hoped, despite some rave reviews. I wasn’t suitably savvy (nor confident enough in my ability by that point) to promote it myself to a wider audience.


What followed was a flurry of writing which culminated in various other books for different age groups, all of which I tried and failed to find a publisher for (I did have an agent for a while but she failed too), and so they have lain dormant in the virtual drawer…


Until now!




Women have always been seen as sex objects, there is nothing new in that, but who decided for the rest of us that our children were fair game? Why is it that with every desire that is met there is a yearning to stretch the boundaries ever further? Our liberal acceptance of new things is increasingly to our detriment. Our once prudish beliefs that viewed the body as a private, personal symbol, barely exposed except to the one to whom we were betrothed, has expanded exponentially to tolerate that which should never be touched or viewed as a sexual object – our children.

 

So perhaps its time to channel that liberal acceptance towards something that has played a part in history but never found its place: the brothel – a sinister, sordid place where women are exploited and abused for the amusement and entertainment of men. But let’s bring it into the twenty-first century; clean it up, provide contraception, access to healthcare, bring in strict regulations, slap on a licence, and make it the property of the state. Make it a place that provides jobs for people that genuinely want to be in that industry, rather than those who are there against their will. Create Relief Rooms in the new and hygienic Relief Centres where various ‘needs’ are met in a tranquil, safe environment for all involved.

 

Let them be open during the day; take away the cover of darkness that permits the mind to imagine the evil that dwells there. Make them light, airy, open and welcoming – and for women too. Give them a place on the high street rather than banish them to a dark ally where we can’t keep an eye on them. Allow them a place in society but only if they play by our rules.

 

Removing the stigma surrounding brothels and shifting perception of what, until now, has been seen as a place to hide what we’d rather not have to deal with; bringing it above ground to an acceptable level, will perhaps be enough of a distraction for those who think they have needs beyond what many of us consider to be the very core of society – a loving, respectful relationship.

 

And in doing so, prostitutes will no longer have to roam the streets, exposed to abuse and persecution; there will be somewhere for them to work in safety – if that is genuinely what they choose to do with their lives – in a place governed by strict regulations.Decreasing the demand for women and children that are trafficked and traded for sex by offering an alternative to punters may go some way towards discouraging such heinous practices. And pornography, whilst it will no doubt always have a firm foothold, may perhaps lose some of its appeal when pitched against the ‘real thing’.

 

And in time, Relief Centres might find themselves a place in society not that far removed from bookies and pubs. People will be able to enter and leave without judgement or scrutiny, secure in the knowledge that the conditions are safe and sanitary. And, most importantly, the women and men working in them will be there of their own free will, earning a legitimate living, and protected from people that would exploit them for merely making their way in the world as best they can, like the rest of us.


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