Let me ask you something: Is there anything as alluring as a blank page? A crisp white page full of potential, presenting the possibility of WORDS. Beautiful words; devastating words; funny words; whimsical words; words that can whisk you away to another time and place in a second.
To me it’s intoxicating, and that moment before the first word is written is filled with endless potential. I think this may have a lot to do with why I became a writer.
But let me begin at the beginning.
As a seven-year-old I was given a journal. A glorious creation that could only be conceived in the early ’90s constructed of coloured paper, a plastic white cover adorned with hearts and, most significantly, a lock. It was a place I could write my thoughts, my dreams and my rants such as they were at seven. They were probably mostly made up of how I was made to eat all my peas at dinner (I’m sorry peas. I truly didn’t comprehend at the time how delicious you were).
At nine I “acquired” my brother’s copy of Roald Dahl’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and slowly devoured it throughout the family beach-side summer holiday. At 12 L.M Montgomery and Anne Shirley entered my realm, swiftly followed by Austen, the Bronte’s and Dickens. I was hooked on words, and I knew they were meant to be part of my life.
Still with me? Good. Side note: I have been known to ramble.
A university degree in journalism (and an Arts degree in English literature and psychology for good measure) were gained in time and by my early 20s I was a cadet at a regional Brisbane newspaper, cutting my teeth interviewing politicians at all levels of government, sitting in the back of court rooms madly scribbling and interviewing amazing authors to boot. I worked my way up to Editor before making the jump to magazines, and that brings us to the present day.
So what will you find between these pages?
My life. Travel. Food. Happenings and interests. A bit of mumlyfe thrown in for good measure.
I hope you enjoy your time here and find a little something to perk your interest, or at least while away a few minutes while you can sip at a cup of tea.
Side note: Fancy the story behind the name Black tea, white pages? I’m an Anglophile and a well-known tea fiend (blame Jane Austen/Dickens/the Brontes for this) A steaming cup of tea is the best way to start the day, and more than one only makes it better. Add in a clever best friend who is also privy to my love of stationery (hi Kim!) and this blog was born. But to be totally honest my brew tends to veer towards strong and milky, rather than black.