Despite reading many a story during my lifetime, I never dreamed of writing one.
Some may even suggest that I still can’t, and that I should have left the writing to those more skilled than myself, and you know what? That is fine.
You see, I became an author by accident. My journey to writing is a very personal one, driven by a desire to help a child through a very emotional time in their life.
A path that has already provided the greatest reward I could ever have wished for.
But let’s start at the beginning, a period of challenge, sadness, loss, desperation and a bucket load of other emotions….
When the world, as we knew it, came to a stop.
The year was 2020 and the pandemic was spreading. I had already been hurriedly returned to the UK from a business trip in Australia as more countries closed their borders.
As the inevitable happened and schools closed their doors, my once happy child very quickly lost his mojo. From loving school life, playing with friends and his many sporty activities, like many, he was now isolated at home and having to navigate the joys of remote learning.
For him, that sucked. He was 7.
I, as a parent, also got things wrong and found it difficult to make the adjustments, to create engaging exercises that would keep him challenged and occupied. Although fortunate enough to be able to continue working full-time during this period, the consequence was that I was unable to afford him my full attention.
To watch the twinkle in his eye slowly fade away was hard to witness.
The loss of a loved one
We continued to muddle our way through, trying to work the problem, when out of nowhere I was given the news that my mother had terminal cancer. My son was now going to lose a grandmother as well, one he spent much time with and cared for deeply.
Within 2 weeks, she had passed.
Suddenly, everything became more difficult as I struggled to balance my own emotions as well as trying to reassure him that things would get better. Clearly, I was not very convincing.
With the none stop daily noise about COVID, and now the loss of his grandmother, the flow of questions about death began to get more frequent. “Are you going to die too?” “Who will look after me if you and mummy die?”
They kept coming.
I tried many things, and failed many times more, to bring back that smile, but little changed. That was until a moment of desperation triggered the most unlikely of spontaneous responses…
A glimmer of hope from the unlikeliest of sources
One evening he looked at me and said “Daddy, I don’t want a story, I just want to go to sleep”, before turning away from me to stare at the wall instead.
I was officially broken, and I’m not ashamed to admit that tears came to my eyes, and a lump to my throat.
It may seem strange to some that I would react this way over a bedtime story, but this was something we had shared almost every evening of his life, including when I worked overseas. I would always try to read him a story, irrespective of time zone.
This was our thing, our long-term connection and for him to not want it meant he was in a bad place. I had to get creative, I needed to find a solution!
Finally, I composed myself, gave him a hug and said, “how about I try and write a story for you, with your name as one of the characters?”
“Yeah, whatever”, He replied
And so here started my writing journey. I now had some hope, and I was determined to get this done.
Road to recovery
There was one slight problem…
The last time I got close to anything that resembled a story would have been at school myself, which was more than just a little while ago.
But I had to do it, I had to try, my child needed me.
So, I simply started by adding things into the mixing bowl which I felt he could relate to. Things that he enjoyed, and I tried to make something a bit different with the ingredients I had.
Whether people like it, love it, or loathe it, the result was one I could only ever have dreamed of.
He found it funny and encouraged me to keep going, the twinkle in his eye began to flicker and was aided by his new pet dog, whom he named ‘Sparky’. The road to recovery was gathering pace.
However, the icing on the cake came when normal school returned…
Creating a smile to remember
Somehow my story sparked his imagination. He signed up for a creative writing after school class and came home one day with a pencil written story which he asked me to look at.
That story was ‘The Adventures of Connor and Sparky,’ a story about a boy and his dog, and the dreamy adventures they have at nighttime when they are both asleep.
The smile that followed when he saw the book for the first time, with his name noted inside as the original creator, will stay with me for a lifetime.
I may not be J.K. Rowling or Roald Dahl, and I may never win awards for my writing, but do you know what?
I can live with that, because the reality is I’m just a dad who disappeared down many rabbit holes in search of something that would aid my child in their time of need. A dad who eventually found an answer in the most obscure of places and was rewarded with the most amazing reaction.
Having my best little pal back was all I wished for.
That is the story behind the story, the journey that took me down a path that was tough, but one I am glad I continued to walk down.
David Armitage is the author of ‘Connor the Cornflake’, ‘The Adventures of Connor and Sparky’ and ‘Olly the Octopus’ Underwater Orchestra’. As well as his day job, David is also a volunteer youth football (soccer) coach.Visit the website www.dadandladstories.com