S. T. Oxfield
Married with two grown up children, I count myself exceptionally lucky to live in a semi-rural village in Northumberland’s splendid Tyne Valley. Originally from Brighton, I have gradually migrated northwards.
When young I was a reluctant reader. Being introduced to Biggles was a game changer and I will freely admit to thoroughly enjoying delving back into the likes of ‘The Camels are Coming’, ‘Biggles of 266’ and ‘The Cruise of the Condor,’ even today. Yes, the language is dated, and there are bits that are not exactly pc, but for all that, they are still good adventure stories – and they played a part in the making of me.
Despite a distinctly average school career, I fulfilled my childhood dream of joining the RAF and passed out of basic training as a bright shiny Pilot Officer at the age of 19! A few years later, university beckoned; a degree in Geography and Economics was followed by research into public transport policy, then teacher training and thirty plus years in the classroom.
Despite being a geographer, history has always held a deep fascination and directs much of my reading; CS Forester, Patrick O’Brian, Alan Furst and Robert Harris numbering amongst my favourite authors. It turns out that it also seems to influence what I write.
I am an accidental writer. A good number of years ago I signed up to a creative writing class, I have no idea why I did it – it was completely out of character! And for some, also unknown reason, following a particularly daunting first session I went back for a second week, and I’m still there.
Three Weeks in May has its genesis in one of the writing tasks from that group - to use the end of a story as its starting point. That particular piece now doesn’t feature in ‘Three Weeks’, but it has become the opening scene in Alice and Tom’s next adventure, which will probably have the title ‘Summer of Spies and Traitors’.
I have to admit that those Froston children are causing me sleepless nights; it seems to me that I have no sooner got them out of one scrape than they get themselves into another one. Some children are just like that!
