Writing the novel ‘Nottingham Lace’ was a long time in its formulation without me recognising it.

Over decades the aspects of mental health grew from a passing interest to close and personal.

Eventually I came to ask the question why people, who I had been so close to and thought I knew well, were driven to the brink of insanity. What drove them to the point they couldn’t bear life anymore?

Could I write a book to explain it?

Two friends took their lives; one found hanging from the rafters of his garage.  

The reality is that an estimated 20% of the population suffers to varying degrees mental health issues.

I suppose what tipped me over to sit and write something was my chance meeting with an Australian veteran who told me his story amongst his comrades in the middle of a field in France in the area of the Somme. The book is dedicated to him. He explained how he came to be on his father’s driveway with a fistful of powerful barbiturates in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other to wash them down.

Luckily a friend called him on his mobile, he had forgotten to switch off. He asked what he was doing for his birthday the next day? Realising something was amiss he called his father and others to drag him out of his car.

I remember walking away from the others with tears in my eyes and cycling ahead of them to the next reporting point on my own to gather myself.

The novel contains some salacious passages and a sprinkling of profanities but hopefully I have given the subject matter justice in a way that is amusing and interesting and above all proved there is always a way through no matter how dark the clouds are!