I have written since I learned to write, really, I remember making up stories as a primary school child. When I was 12 I bought a hard backed notebook and wrote a story about schoolgirls, complete with illustrations (don't you find that most of us writers are arty as well?). One day in the school library one of the girls around the table noticed what I was doing and insisted on reading it. It was passed around the table and everyone read the book (which was nearly complete). They all pronounced it "brilliant" and asked what was going to happen next (I ended it on the note of a girl being accused of stealing a bracelet when it was really her 'enemy' who had planted it!). Guess what? Me, or should I say 'moi' was absolutely mortified, did not believe they had enjoyed the read, and that night I took the 'book' home and burned it on the kitchen fire!!! Even today I would love to read it. Of course it was rubbish, but if I had been a different person I would have relished the praise and thought I was the next Enid Blyton and perhaps been one today.