When I was a teenager, I didn’t know anyone else who wanted to write. I felt lonely and different, sitting in my bedroom, tapping out novels on my manual typewriter, while other teenage girls I knew spent their weekends hanging out in each other’s houses, talking about music and boys. I grew up in the North of England in a working class steel town where most kids saw me as fairly bizarre. The experience was profound, because without it, I wouldn’t have worked so hard to create communities for artistic kids. I wouldn’t have known how important it was that such places existed. But there is danger in thinking you are the only one. I didn’t know anyone else who wanted to be writers, so […]