Open Writing

As a boy I hated learning and spent most of my time playing truant from school.

My mother deserted the family when I was two. I was thrown on to the streets by my father when I was just 14-years-old because he wanted to go and live with his lady friend. Next to the youngest of five children, I missed being part of a family, and I lived rough for a while, just travelling up and down the country (UK).

My brother, Alan, along with my Aunt Chrissie, my father's sister, who offered love and support when I was thrown out, were the only two members of the family who I really felt close to, but it wasn't enough and I was on the verge of suicide three years later.

It was at the age of 17 that my older brother Alan managed to save me at the last minute and helped me to take stock of my life. He took care of me over the next few years to ensure that I didn't stray from the straight and narrow. At the age of 21 he encouraged me to join the army, and I took his advice and joined the Duke of Wellington's Regiment. This was the best thing that I had done so far, and it was like I had a new family and it was my new home. I really enjoyed the army life, and they were brilliant years. I was an all round sports person.

It was whilst I was resting from a tour to a hot spot that I met my wife, Betty, and we married after only courting for six weeks. We are celebrating our 35th wedding anniversary on November 5th.

Tragically, whilst I was serving in the army I was informed that Alan had been murdered. He had been stabbed to death after disturbing a burglar in his flat.

I was shocked and devastated. It took me a while to get over his passing.

One thing that I had promised Alan was that if anything happened to him, I would continue with the search for our birth mother who we had not seen or heard of since the day she left us in 1951.

Another emotional setback was when my Aunt Chrissie passed away, as she had been like a mother to me. She was one of the most kind and loving people you could ever meet, and she always put herself out for others, especially me. This placed a strain on my life at the time, and once again I felt alone as the people that I loved most were leaving me on my own, and I felt that except for Betty, there was no one else in my life that I could talk to or trust.

I threw myself into my work and with Betty's help I gained promotion. Finally after 13 years in the army, where I served in 22 different countries, and one or two hot spots, I rejoined civilian life and went from job to job to put food on the table for myself and my three young children.

Then, one night in 1985, as I was working as a security guard, tragedy struck. I was knocked down by a car suffered serious head injuries. After the accident, which left me partially paralysed, and wheelchair bound for the rest of my life, I suddenly found that I had a passion for writing. I don't really remember much about that time. I had such bad head injuries that I had to learn everything again. A couple of years later I moved back to my home city of Bradford in Yorkshire.

Most of my time was spent in day centres and I was taken on day trips and given swimming lessons. Carers were constantly trying to stimulate my brain in an attempt to make me learn how to live again. The funny thing was that I still retained my memories of my childhood and teenage years.

I was introduced to computers, during my recovery time, at Clifford Brook Day Centre in Leeds, West Yorkshire. The tutors asked me if I wanted to have a go on one of their old machines, (they weren't bothered about me wrecking it) and something just clicked. I loved it and they had a heck of a job trying to get me off it.

It was approximately a year later that I was visited by a college tutor and it was shortly after passing a literary test that I was asked if I wanted to start a basic computing course at the Thomas Danby College in Leeds, a college for students with learning disabilities, and after some encouragement from the staff at the day centre, I took an entrance exam. I couldn't believe it. I thought I'd never pass, but I did, and it just all went from there.

The doctors informed me that during the accident a part of my brain that made me want to learn had been triggered and in a way it became an obsession, so I had to be taught how to slow down.

The College taught me all about computers and I even learnt how to design my own web page albeit simple. On top of this I began a course in English to increase my word power and grammar. The English tutor at the college asked me if I would like to enter a writing competition to try to win a computer. I remember stating that I'd enter anything, and out of 500 entrants, I won. I also remember the tutor stating I had a really active imagination, and my writing just went from strength to strength.

When I finally left the college I graduated with no less than 17 City and Guilds in word processing, database methods and desktop publishing. I even got a City and Guilds in maths and English, as well as a Mensa certificate of merit.

I just love writing. It's my passion in life, and at the time I drew on my dramatic experiences in life to help me write.

I'd been unable to continue looking for my biological mother during my illness. But as my life improved and I learnt more about the wonders of technology, I began searching for her on the Internet. I sent letters across the world and finally, and with the help of lots of friends throughout the USA, Australia and other countries, it was finally an advert that I had placed in a newspaper in the USA that brought me to her. But she was reluctant to introduce herself as my mother. She denied it at first. I think that so much had happened in her life that she wanted to forget about everything, but finally she admitted she was my mother.

To cut a long story short, her husband passed away a couple of months after I had found her, and she moved back to the UK to hopefully be reunited with the family that she had left behind many years previous, and she now lives in Bradford.

Despite my disability, my wife Betty, and children, Tina, 29, Stephen, 27 and Lesley 25, have all stuck by me. They're brilliant, and we go out and have a good laugh. As long as they are happy, that's all that matters.

My ability to write stories has brought me tremendous happiness in life.

After writing all my tales, I finally achieved my main goal! I was at my most content when I was finally published in book form. It was like winning the World Cup and I can finally state to my Aunt Chrissie, 'look I've finally achieved my ambition!' But as she is always watching over me, I think that she knows already.

By having my novels published, it is my memorial to her.

I can only type 15 words a minute - but I've written five novels. Two of them are published, and the rest are at the moment being edited by yours truly, at my own pace. I have also written more than 400 short stories over the years with plenty more to come

My first book, “Time for a Cuppa!” http://www.btinternet.com/~mikeco158/cuppa1.htm , a collection of short stories from the beautiful countryside of the Yorkshire Dales, is on sale in bookstores at the moment. These short tales of Yorkshire (Herriot country) by a true Yorkshire-man are easy reading with a Cuppa!

My novel “One tear is not enough,” http://www.btinternet.com/~mikeco158/onetear1.htm is in the bookshops now.

Set against a panoramic background from England to India and spanning eight decades, this epic family saga follows the courageous and spirited Celia, as she overcomes hardship and tragedy to truly define the human spirit. Against all odds, she survives the death of her beloved Bill Tucker, a savage mental institution. And blind and going deaf, she raises her brother's five children as her own.

Besides writing stories and novels, I have also written columns for the North Star Journal in New Mexico and Ontario Folk Music Magazine. I have been awarded The Quill, Spotlight Writer of the Month and was presented with an award of excellence by Short Story Magazine, and for three years I was a columnist for the local Bradford newspaper, the Telegraph and Argus. I enjoy it when people stop me in the street to inform me that they enjoyed my tales, as it means that my tales are interesting.

Remember

If you believe they are fiction, then just relax and enjoy reading them.

Time for a Cuppa!