Shelly N - The Working Class Heroine.

Ok so maybe I'm not a Heroine, but the first bit of my Author name is right.

I was born and bred in London into a typical working class family (typical in that we're all skint, in council accomidation, on the dole and there's loads of us each with a funny accent), and grew up in a pretty naff area of this fair city.
I've been struggling for many years to try and pull myself out of the lifestyle I was brought up in because, as much as I'd say my roots have grounded me, I really want to try and make something of myself. My family are all amazing people, but I want to break free from a life that is determined to try and hold me back. I'm not a master craftswoman, a whizz with numbers, I'm not a superbrain (I have the worst memory EVER for starters), but I'm a writer. A writer trying to hone my craft at university where I study creative writing and english literature.
Not only is it a step in the direction I need to be in, but it's also a step toward meeting fellow writiers - some I'm honoured to now call my friends - and building up confidence and self-belief that I'd have gotten no where else.

In the last year I've learnt some really valuble skills from the most brilliant and understated writers around, and now I know this is what I want to do for sure. I love words, I love pens and paper, books and dictionaries, even splats of ink are beautiful things...

As for my writing, well it's a lot like my roots. Gritty but surreal at the same time.
I try to ground my characters as much as possible, I want them to be believable even if the situations they're in aren't so. I want my readers to hear their voice, feel their emotions, see them vividly in their heads, feel their surroundings and taste the smog they breathe. I also love to play with description, cliche and metaphor.

I have a weird way of thinking and looking at things. Close friends call me mildly eccentric. As real as I like my characters to be, I still like there to be an air of the unreal around. As if everything going on could and does happen, but something strange and not quite fitting with anything else is lurking like some weird shaddow behind a wall waiting to pounce...or jump up and shout "MOO!" y'know...whatever...

That's enough nagging from me I think.
I really should shut it and let my writing to the talking for me...


Ohhh how the ego has landed.
Lol!