I am sure like me, there have been times when you have wondered what difference might have been made to your life, if your younger self had been gifted with the experience and knowledge you have accumulated over the years.

I invited several friends from the writing community to share their thoughts on this subject which I am sure you will enjoy as much as I did.

Today author Jane Risdon reflects on the message she might have offered to her younger self to reassure her that one day, she would be a writer..

I Wish I’d known Then What I Know Now. – Jane Risdon

Writing is something I’ve wanted to do ever since I first read Enid Blyton, Robert Louis Stephenson, and similar authors, but I never imagined I’d actually achieve my goal. I dreamed about it and authored stories which I never shared.

I recall mentioning I wanted to be a war correspondent during a school career evening and being firmly put back in my box by the woman ‘advising’ me on various ‘suitable’ careers for the eldest daughter of parents with six children. ‘You can be a teacher, a nurse, a secretary etc…’ she told me. She made it clear that men were journalists, not women. ‘Besides, you’ll be getting married and having children…’ That really annoyed me then and it does now.

My father was a military man who later worked for the Ministry of Defence. Mother was a dispenser in various pharmacies until she retired. My mother was (is) a person in her own right. As well as being a wife who worked, she was a mother too. When we were overseas she didn’t work, but as soon as we returned to England she went back to her profession. Women could have careers, I knew that.

We lived all over the world, experienced many cultures and peoples, and I wanted to cover their stories, especially during any conflict. That was not to be. My family moved to Germany and there I remained for two years until I managed to apply for a job at the Office of Information (British Government), in London, where I could write press releases and articles. Long story short; I didn’t get the job. I was recommended and approved for the Foreign and Commonwealth Office instead, and I escaped from Germany to an amazing job where my writer’s imagination was inundated with a deluge of material to file away in the hope that one day, when I became a writer, I could possibly use all I learned and experienced.

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