Some moments arrive quietly but stay with you. This week, I had one of those.
I was on the sofa with my granddaughter, Elza, reading James and the Time Tunnel — my first published children’s book. She settled in beside me in her pink pyjamas, listening with that wonderful, intent seriousness children bring to stories they’ve decided to trust.
As I read, she kept glancing up at me as if to check whether I really had written the words on the page. I’m not sure she’s convinced. I’m not entirely sure I am either.
There was nothing grand about the moment — no launch event, no applause, no fuss. Just the two of us, a quiet room, and a story that began life at my desk and somehow found its way into her hands.
It felt like the kind of magic you don’t plan for, but recognise instantly when it arrives.
The story we read together is here: James & The Time Tunnel
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