Today is my stop on the Blog Tour for Her name Was Rose by Claire Allan where I have a guest post from Claire. I was thrilled to be asked by Sabah Khan from Avon Books to take part along with some other fab book bloggers. You can find out who else is taking part in this fabulous Blog Tour at the end of this extract so without further ado, here it is:
Life has a way of directing you where you need to go, often when you least expected.
At the end of 2015, I had finished a difficult year, emotionally, physically and professionally.
It had started with a battle with Sepsis which had a long term effect on my health, which in itself had a knock on effect on my ability to keep up the pace in a busy newsroom.
The year ended knowing that my much beloved grandmother, who had been fighting a losing battle with Alzheimer’s over the course of the previous 12 years, was in the final days of her life.
I felt anchorless and was looking for a sign of what to do next. A brush with a serious illness had made me re-evaluate my priorities and, as I was heading face on towards my 40th birthday, it was a time when I wanted a new focus for a new decade.
On January 8, my beloved grandmother passed away. On the same day I was made aware that an opportunity to take voluntary redundancy from my 17 year journalism career was being made available.
I felt that morning, as we tried to come to terms with my grandmother’s death, that she was giving me a sign.
I could almost hear her voice telling me clearly, and strongly that I was to follow my dreams. Now was the time when I had to take a chance – focus what energy I had in a positive direction and work on moving my writing career to the next level.
It’s sounds a bit strange, maybe, but it felt as clear a sign as I was ever likely to get that now was the chance to take a risk – even though I have always been one to play everything safe.
But it wasn’t enough that I simply decided to walk away from my career and focus on writing, I decided it was also the time to start writing something a little different.
I wanted to push myself. To challenge myself. I decided to write “a serious book” and I spent six months loving the process of writing a book about adoption and the threads which tie us altogether.
I loved it and believe in it.
It was rejected by every publisher I sent it to and whereas in the past I’d have taken that as a cast iron sign to, literally, not give up the day job – on this occasion I was sure I could still here my grandmother’s voice telling me not give up and to keep going.
So I did, and the book which is now ‘Her Name Was Rose’ started to spill out onto the page. It was as if someone was whispering in my ear, telling me to keep going, to trust my gut and trust that I had made the right decision.
In the end I wrote a book I’m exceptionally proud of, and I know someone is smiling down on me. If you wondered, her name was Anna.
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