Hi, my name is Melanie and I’m a readaholic

Actually, these days, reading is something of a treat. I seem to have fallen down the rabbit hole into a strange, hand-wringing, hair-pulling, wine-sculling, chocolate-scoffing world of writing and editing. There I was, blithely going about my own business when a series of events, much like a large and well-dressed white rabbit scurrying past, precipitated my fall.

First, I sensed a dissatisfaction with my current reading matter. I considered what I thought was lacking and, to my dismay I decided that the story didn’t make sense… real people wouldn’t behave like that, surely.

And then, I had a brilliant idea for a story. It really is a very good idea, and I might even finish it one day, sadly it is still languishing in the dusty files of my computer. But then I had another and another, and I started to write them and to polish then and then….

But, before we get to that part, I should introduce myself properly. I was a perfectly normal, boring child, who grew up in the outer northern suburbs of Brisbane, went to state schools, worked for a large retailer, married and had three kids. Hey, I had no aspirations.

We married young. I was nineteen and he was twenty-two, but the last mumble-mumble years have been pretty good to us. We are still married, and the three kids have all left home, even though some of them are yo-yos (as in they come back, not that they are loopy). We’ve gained a couple of in-laws and three cute grand kiddies. In addition, I have three siblings who have all been busy producing the next generation of dinky di aussies. So when we all get together, there are about thirty of us.

When the children were young, I loved to cook and entertain. I made a zillion cakes for fundraising sales. And every year I held a large Christmas dinner, with more desserts than two dozen people could eat. My poor children still complain about how they were forced to eat leftover pavlova in the days after the party. It’s a hard life.

When I was in my mid-twenties, I had the brilliant idea of going to university and becoming a teacher. Problem… three small kids. But I had wonderful husband, parents, sister and friends who babysat and made it possible for me to go to uni. So, in the same year that my eldest became a high school student, I became a high school teacher.

I might not have become a writer, were it not for my husband’s shift work. I’ve always had a creative bent, I used to decoupage and embroider and do craft-y things, but I can’t knit or crochet to save myself. And TV is pretty boring, so, because I am mostly alone in the evenings, I started to write. And I got addicted.

Lest anyone think that I have a perfect life, we’ve had our share of difficulty. I was the kid at primary school with the ‘bully me’ sign taped to her back. We always has a roof over our heads, so we were blessed, but money and I were merely nodding acquaintances. My husband still has the bank account slip showing a bank balance of $5.83, to feed the kids on. We have faced medical problems. And other stuff. But, by the grace of God and the love of family, we have made it through.

So, that is me. I love dark chocolate and camembert, but not together, obviously. I love 80’s music and hate sport. I love teaching, writing and my precious family.

It’s been lovely to meet you. Please tell me something about yourself. Maybe in the comments. 🙂

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