Carl Hancock

My childhood was spent in a grimy Welsh mining valley that produced steam coal to power Britain’s Royal Navy and Merchant fleets. Its constant background was war. News of death underground or in battle was commonplace. Yet those years were happy for me and my friends. We grew up protected by our innocence. Momentous events happening near and far were the norm. By the time we became aware of their true meaning, the Allies were on the road to victory.

The importance of education was drummed into us from our early years.

‘If you don’t pass the scholarship for the grammar, it will be underground for you, my lad.’

I was one of the lucky ones. I can’t remember a time when words and stories were not very important to me. Books were not easy to come by but I gobbled up any reading material that came my way: the Dandy, the Beano, the Daily Herald, pamphlets, the backs of cereal packets, all were welcome. As we moved up the levels of the school, the depth, the variety, the brilliance of the world of literature was presented to us. We read top quality writing in English, French and Latin. My knowledge of words became international.

I had been writing since primary school. Working, playing with words was always a delight. Poetry, little sketches, articles, they were things to share even if they were ‘not much cop!’ Then, as now, I wrote for myself. Gradually the control became stronger, the targets more ambitious. I found out early that a key pleasure was to use words to take myself on an emotional journey. It is the same today.

A pattern developed. A tiny idea would drop into my head, from somewhere. In one story it was a boy’s name – Keith Lane. Use as a background places I knew well, people it with characters and let them get on with it. With variations, that’s my way.

I find the question ‘What’s it all about?’ difficult to answer in a concise way. I try to create a slice of life with conflicts. Usually and surprisingly these conflicts resolve themselves into a struggle between a good side and a less good side. The writing is the exciting part. I want to share the stories with anyone willing to give them a go. I live in hope rather than expectation.