I’ve been writing full-time for a few years now, but in a previous life I was an award-winning digital producer in TV and the arts. No, really. It’s on my linkedin and everything. I still produce the odd thing, and might be able to help on digital and social media projects.
Before that I ran comedy clubs, wrote sketches for Radio 4, and performed stand-up for a year or so. I had a good joke (one) about my agoraphobic ex: when he told me he needed space, I didn’t believe him.
At university I studied English, specifically Romantic and Victorian literature, meaning I’m half book nerd, half pop diva. I had plans to start a phd on nineteenth-century English Germanophiles, but was tempted away by the prospect of writing jokes about Brian McFadden’s departure from Westlife. I like to think humanity has benefitted.
This is my twitter. These are the books I’m reading. This is my tumblr, though I forget why I have one of those now – I think I was panicking about turning 30. And this is my instagram, where I take terrible photos in the hope I’ll leave something worthwhile behind when I die. So far there’s nothing.
Some things persist, however. This website from 1996, for instance, is still online thanks to the Wayback Machine. I learned to code so I could build it, because I loved Michael Jackson so.
Yeah. You heard. As Philip Larkin once wrote, what shall survive of us is love (though, as ever, he undermines even that by calling it an “almost-instinct” that’s “almost true”). I was a superfan alright, meaning I spent my teens touring Europe, queueing overnight for concerts so I’d be front row, and vigorously defending the right of anyone to dangle small children out of hotel windows.
I used to be embarrassed about all that. Recently though, I’ve started writing about it.