I’m Rewan: owner of a snazzy Cornish name, a nice voice, and a good sense of humour. I also have a lifelong love of telling and consuming stories, and that’s what this blog is all about.
I believe stories not only help us to escape from our everyday lives, they help us to better understand them. They tell us who we are, they ask uncomfortable questions, they show us what we will be if we make the right choices, or the wrong ones.
Good stories make you think; great stories make you feel; and the best stories make you question. Would I have made the same choice as the main character? Why has this made me feel the way it does? Whose side am I really on?
When it comes to telling stories, my journey is as clichéd as they come: I’ve been writing since before I can remember (although to be fair, I can usually only remember to last Thursday).
My parents have home video footage of me as a toddler copying down my favourite books from memory. When I was older, I would staple sheaves of A5 paper together to make books, in which I would write stories.
During my primary school years, my teacher would sneak me extra exercise books for me to fill with doodles and writing. My dad gave me old notebooks and these, too, became a playground for my imagination.
I wrote in chapters even then, even if those chapters consisted only of a sentence or two (some highly successful published authors still do this today). It was as if my brain naturally followed the pattern of a novel.
One day, in science class in secondary school, I got so bored I flipped open a spare notepad and began writing. To this day it baffles me that, despite having no idea what I was going to write, I started the page with ‘Chapter 1’.
Those few lines quickly became a few pages, which became a few chapters. I would always carry my 50-page work in progress around with me in my bag, and many people in the school read it. Everyone knew I was writing a book.
Someone even took it home with them over the Easter holidays. (Judging by the state of the paper when it returned, I think they used it to prop up a wonky table in a florists).
Over the years that novel and I have morphed and evolved, growing up and maturing together. The book continues to be a work in progress today. It is barely recognisable, but then hopefully so am I.
I went to university and studied creative writing, dabbling as I did in stand-up comedy (the need to make people laugh is like a craving, or possibly an illness), music and radio presenting.
I then took a little bit of time out to have a mental breakdown. I decided to take my love of writing and apply it in a business context, starting up a freelance copywriting business to avoid having to leave the house much: I wasn’t in the mood to go outside and face the adult world.
A range of clients and several years later and I had sharpened my skills yet further, written articles on topics including the history of slippers and the scale used for measuring how hot a chilli pepper is, and gained a wealth of marketing knowledge to boot. Two years ago, with a newborn son to think about, I took up a full-time writer’s position with a local financial services company, and now I spend my days writing about foreign exchange markets, investment, politics and economics.
It took me awhile to figure out exactly what this blog should be about, then suddenly it struck me: stories. It seemed so obvious that I can’t believe it’s taken this long to decide. Whether you’re a reader, cinema goer, Netflix addict, sitcom junkie or something in between, come and help me celebrate the wonder of stories, narratives, fables and tales.
Subscribe and stick around. There’s a new chapter waiting for us.