Once there was a girl...

Oh, ME!

I grew up all over the world, lucky enough to visit all sorts of exotic and extraordinary places with my family. I loved people-watching, scribbling and noodling away in my notebook, capturing and being captivated by characters, illustrations, rhymes and playing with words. Studying Anthropology and languages at uni, I was able to indulge all of this.

Then came a rather horrible shock: the real world. I got a job.

With little idea as to what I really wanted to do, and a lot of knowledge about a lot of things, but very little knowledge of myself, I floundered and sank for a bit. I got sad.

But then I decided enough was enough.

I decided I wasn’t going to put up with being this unhappy and unfulfilled, so I handed in my notice in a bright white envelope, bought a round the world ticket - starting in Japan and ending in Belize - and resolved to ‘study myself like a bug’ on these travels.

Armed with a pile of notebooks and pens, I set off to study human (and my own) happiness. I noted down what set my world alight: I remembered the importance of those scribbles, rhymes and doodles, I met a lot of people and asked a lot of questions, I skinny dipped in pools, rivers, lakes and seas.

This was all very well, but what the heck could I do with this information to earn a living?! I was still far too scared to declare that I wanted to make money with my words and pictures.

Somewhat reluctantly, I returned to real life, and got another job. This time though, something was different. This time I knew what made me happy. The problem was, this made me EVEN MORE frustrated.

Again, I got sad. But, this time I got resourceful…. fast.

Meanwhile, I had met the man of my dreams (in fact, he had appeared very clearly in one of those little black notebooks I had scribbled on my travels). This man was living the dream, doing something I had always secretly wanted to do myself: he had his own business.

Once the heady fog of love had cleared somewhat, and I could think a little straighter, I handed in my notice in a bright white envelope.

And started up my own swimwear company.

For five glorious (and extremely challenging) years, I produced bikinis that made women feel like gorgeous goddesses of the water. What an adventure. I loved it. But one day, unexpectedly, that honest little soul of mine that never lets me get away with being untrue to myself for too long started to whisper again: ‘Swimwear isn’t the thing, start writing and illustrating your children’s book ideas’ she crooned. I managed to successfully ignore her for a bit and distracted myself by marrying the dream man. Then, pregnant with my first baby, those whisperings became a roar I could no longer ignore: I HAD to start writing and illustrating children’s books.

I started to scribble. Three and a half years, a house move and another baby later, and there were several ideas on paper, but nothing complete.

Until, one night, a story fell straight out of my head and onto the page, fully written and illustrated between 2am-6am, with the most powerful motivator I’ve yet to discover: solving my child’s unhappiness. It was story written for my first little boy, Samuel. But that story, the story of ‘Samuel and the Monster’ is for another time…

That brings you up to speed on my tale so far.

I'm stepping into my new role as an illustrator and picturebook maker. I am now a mum and stepmum of four (two boys and two girls, my stepdaughters) and I am passionate about raising children who are emotionally resilient and creating things for other mums who feel the same way. I love bringing joy to people’s homes with my colourful designs.

Although this feels like a new chapter in a long winding journey, I know it’s the start of something incredible!