When I was an A student

As I attempt to breathe fresh life into this blog I thought perhaps I'd explain what gives me the right to write about writing. I did cover this in the very second post on this blog back in 2013 and you'll find my first blog post - an explanation of the title of the blog - in the Featured Post on the right hand side of this page.

As I say in my original post I do have a Master's degree in Creative Writing - and as I also said, it's worth about as much as the paper on which it's written. Still if I could find it I'd show it to you but I can't so you'll have to make do with this evidence for my excellence as a writer, and my authority to write this blog.

At the time I was an eleven-year-old, just about to go up to grammar school, and Mr Guest, our lovely teacher, gave me this wonderful report. See? Writing A, Excellent.

If you look a little further down you'll see my science wasn't up to so much - which makes me wonder why, when it came to a choice, I took the scientific academic path that I scraped along.

My real talent obviously lay in the arts as was clear from my rapid progression from the first year in the Juniors when I'd only had a C for writing.

So I hope I have convinced you now of my ability and will visit regularly if only to hear tell of my latest rejection/failure/disaster.