Confessions of my Past, Present and Future
by
Paul Flewitt
The Past
Who here (if you’re from the UK, that is) remembers the Brittania Music and Video Club?
This was a scheme that would send out catalogues of
records (remember those?) and videos that were recently released. One of my
earliest and most vivid memories was leafing through that catalogue with my
cousins. I couldn’t have been very old. The catalogue was split into sections;
western, romance, horror… This was the 80’s and the horror section was one that
I would return to, just to look at the pictures. One image that was branded
onto my memory was that of a mean looking dude with nails driven into his head.
That one image gave my little-boy nightmares, but it was an image that has
stuck with me for a long time. Is it strange that I now view the Hellpriest as one of my best friends?
But … I’m getting ahead of myself here (as writers are
often wont to do). The story really begins here…
Books and reading have always played a big part in my
life from such a young age that I can barely remember a time in my life when I
haven’t had a stack of books, waiting to be read.
My father, throughout my childhood was a hobby-writer,
penning short stories and poems whenever the mood took him. He was an avid
reader and had a large collection of books which I would routinely raid myself.
It’s my dad that can probably take responsibility for my writing, because he
would encourage me to imagine.
English was always my subject at school. I could read
books beyond my years from a very young age and grasped the many vagaries of
the English language with relative ease. Hardly surprising, given that there
were times in my childhood when we didn’t own a TV and a games console was but
a dream and fantasy for me. There were times when books were literally my only
form of entertainment.
The first books I remember as receiving for my own were a
box set of Beatrix Potter classics, bought by my parents for me. I have to say,
they all provided literally minutes of entertainment before I’d read them all,
but I return to them even now with my own children. I love the innocence of
them and the quite obvious life-lessons they provide. My personal favourite; Squirrel Nutkin, I could read over and
over… and have.


