Time for a personal story
Type face: At work in my first journalism role, an internship at the local weekly paper.
Over almost forty years as a newspaper and magazine journalist, my job was to write about others, not to put myself in the story, and I rarely spoke, even to close friends, about my strange upbringing.
When I did, the listener would invariably say I should write a book about it. No, I would respond, it was too miserable. My memories were fragmented and hazy, virtually all negative. Like a jumble-sale jigsaw, the box was long gone, half the pieces were missing and the few that remained were bleached almost colourless by the passage of time.
But being diagnosed with autism a couple of years ago changed the way I felt. Suddenly, all that mattered was reassembling that puzzle. I needed to understand my parents, what made them, and how they made me. To work out which of them passed on those crucial genes. To discover who I really am, to see if I could make peace with myself and build a kinder, more authentic life.
And if I could do these things, I wanted to share that knowledge, in the hope it would dispel some of the many myths about autism and help other women get the answers they needed. That’s why I began Mothertongue, the book I said I would never write.
Vote of confidence
Earlier this year, with a first draft nearly complete, I entered it for the flagship fiction and narrative non-fiction prize in the Northern Writers’ Awards. The UK’s largest literary awards programme for new talent, this year – their 25th – they received a record 2,760 submissions across the various categories. And Mothertongue was shortlisted.
The organisers’ email said: ‘Our judges and specialist readers were very impressed with your writing and discussed your work at length. Rachel Mann [judge and leading literary agent] passed on this feedback: “This is a really engaging, thoughtful and clearly communicated piece, at once gently witty and poignant.” […] I hope you can take encouragement from the shortlisting and continue to develop this accomplished work-in-progress.’
I was stunned but thrilled. Mothertongue is the book I wish I could’ve read when I uncovered my true nature. By revealing what it’s like to be an autistic child, teen and adult – and detailing how I cast off my neurotypical mask and made a happier life – it sets out to demystify a condition whose impact on women has been hugely underestimated.
It also aims to offer wider insights about the complexity of family relationships, what we remember and what we forget, the impossibility of pinning down an objective truth – and the importance of learning to love ourselves.
And the people behind these influential awards liked what I was doing and agreed that it mattered. It was a massive vote of confidence.
So now I’m working, with the generous help of Aki Schilz, director of the highly respected Literary Consultancy, to get Mothertongue finished. Once it’s ready, we’ll look for a literary agent to introduce it to potential publishers. Wish me luck! I’ll keep you posted.