Picture
Hi, I thought it was about time I put something down, first let me tell you a bit about myself. I was born in Doncaster, in 1965. I have one sister, Sharon, who still lives in the house we grew up in. I never knew my real father and was raised by my mother, Betty, and step-father, Alan who we sadly lost to cancer a couple of years ago. There was nothing unusual about my childhood, pretty normal in fact. My dad was in the air force and later SOAF, the Sultan of Oman's air force. I loved hearing his stories of far off lands, populated with fascinating people. A few stories stood out for me, guard duty in Aden, being on edge all the time; expecting an attack from insurgents at any moment, or the time he was riding shotgun on a bus full of school children which came under attack, one of the attackers threw a grenade at the open doorway where my dad was positioned, fortunately the grenade bounced off the edge of the door and blew up the attacker. Then there was the time when he was stationed at RAF Stanmore Park. When him and his mates used to drink at a local Pub, every now and again a group of men used to rock up at the Pub and always bought several rounds for the customers. They said they were property developers from London, it was not till two of the men appeared on the TV news that he discovered they were the infamous Kray Twins, Ronnie & Reggie. Tales like this seemed to fire my imagination from early on.
     At the bottom of our stairs resided at glass fronted book case, filled with Readers Digest novels, you know the kind I mean, three stories within, and bound in red, green or blue covers with gold writing. I was forbidden to touch these books, of course being the inquisitive kind, I found ways and means to check them out, and from then on I had the bug. I became a voracious reader, devouring all I could. I sometimes think I learned more from reading than I ever did in school.
     It wasn't until I won a short story competition in School that I harboured any notions of becoming a writer. I received a knock back in my Comprehensive years when I asked my English teacher, who bore a striking resemblance to the Character 'Tattoo' off Fantasy Island, advice on writing books. I was basically told to forget it and get a proper job. So there it was my dreams smashed before my eyes, I would not think about it again untill I was in my forties. To be continued.

 
Path of the Writing Ronin 1
The Journey So Far
I have not written anything here for a while, so I thought I better  get something down, and not just something to advertise my books. I'm not a blogger or any kind of social commentator, I don't want to shout out my views or ram my opinions down peoples throats, which is why I haven't put anything down here on a regular basis.I thought well I have been plodding along on this book writing thingy since May, well that's when I had the opportunity to have something published, many thanks to Matt Hilton on that score. I have been writing on and off for the past couple of years, posting in Writers Cafe and other web based literary homes. With the advent of the whole Amazon publishing boom, it has taken me a little further down the road, I have gained quite a few friends from around the globe while plunking away at my keyboard, people I could never ever meet if I was packing shelves at Tescos, not that there is anything wrong with doing that, I've done it myself. Even though I was working Security at the time, the management in their infinite wisdom decided the best use for their Security staff was to stock their shelves, I digress, just one of my bug bears.
   I did say I'm not one to shout out my views so I do apologise, I have three books out in the world now, well four really but one is a book of poems which does not count as hardly any sales have been made on it. Just for jollity though here is one of the poems from it.

MANCHURIAN MACHINATION
A Poem by Andy Scorah

    In a Manchurian world of lysergic dreams
    The world is not as it may seem
    Just like Marco and Shaw turned into a political whore
    Stalking the streets till you reach the killing floor

   Was the queen of diamonds your call to war?
   Or Salinger's angst ridden tome
   That made you carry a Glock from your home
   Was it murderous visions driving you through the door?

    The soundtrack to your mental machinations
    As the bodies hit the floor
    Do you think you’re a soldier of the class war?
    Victims, ain't we all of your death dealing gyrations.

       There you go just one of my attempts at the poetic. Anyway, sometimes I look back at the books I have completed and sometimes I wonder, did I really write that, where the hell did it come from, especially when I compare it to my earlier stuff, which wasn't bad, just rough around the edges. Sometimes I think I should revisit my earlier work and smarten it up, but I tell myself no, they are part of the journey to where you are now, leave them be, in the words of the big I AM Simon Cowell, it is what it is.
   From my humble beginnings way back in the mists of time in a little village called Campsall, seven and a half miles from Doncaster, that's in South Yorkshire folks, I buried my head in books. I dreamed of one day becoming a writer myself, not that the local Careers office would offer any advice, even my English teacher said I would be better off going down the pit or joining the army, even though I consistently received top marks for my class work.
   Part of me is glad I never got back in to it until my adult years, I do think one of the main qualities of a writer is life experience, especially if you are writing for an adult audience, just my opinion before you start shouting at me.  One of the pieces of advice I was given along the way was to join a writers circle, and attend some sort of writers workshop/Course. I chose not to do these things, not that I thought I could do it all by myself or that I would not get anything from them, for me I felt it would dilute what I had, make my writing mechanical, this was an informed choice after checking out what was available in my area. My teachers have been books, thousands of them which I have read along the way, Other help has come from authors I have met,  some who have read my work, and given me helpful comments, and/or advice. Advice I would give to some one just starting out, is read loads in the genre you want to write in, study what the writer does, how they tell the story. Also don't get too panicky over your grammar, that can be fixed once your piece is finished. WRITE YOUR STORY, sort everything else in the edit/proofing.
  Nothing about my journey so far has been disappointing or unsatisfactory, quite a few of the characters I have met along the way could be characters in books themselves, writers are a fascinating bunch, mind they would have to be to crank out the stuff they do.
   One last thing I would like to mention before I close this, if the police were to check my hard-drive, and I am sure this is the same for most writers, they would think they had got themselves some kind of terrorist or serial killer, researching the likes of crime scenes and types of bombs, poisons, weapons. I hope they never have too, be kind of hard to explain, for now I'm out of here, have a nice day.