I was mindlessly scrolling when I had an idea that changed everything

It was 1am on a freezing Sunday morning in January 2021.

My husband and teenage daughter had long since gone to bed. I was alone, idly scrolling the Internet on my laptop and fed up with feeling fed up; fed up of being stuck in a cycle of anxiety and depression that had gone on far longer than the lockdown we were in.

And then came the moment that changed everything.

‘What would happen if I just wrote something?’, I thought to myself.

I’m no stranger to the odd creative endeavour. As a teenager, I’d spend ages sitting at my parents’ typewriter, creating terrible scripts for plays that would only ever be performed at our kitchen table.

I’d tried – and failed – to write a book when I was 25, and had dabbled in various other ventures since, all of which came to nothing.

And despite the ideas that lived rent-free in my head, I’d resigned myself to the fact – as I approached my sixth decade on this earth – that it would never happen.

Yet this time things felt different. I’d try it, I decided. One chapter. What was the worst that could happen?

When I eventually went to bed I had that chapter – and it was as if the clouds fogging up my head had parted. I barely slept that night from the excitement.

Over the remaining weeks of lockdown, I wrote a little every day after I’d finished work. Within 12 weeks I had a draft of a novel.

I edited. I rewrote. I made myself an inspirational playlist of 80s songs to spur me along.

I began researching the publishing world to within an inch of its life, from the agent route through to small presses and self-publishing. I was determined to get this baby out into the world.

That didn’t happen – but something else did.

Fast forward to July that year and I was so entrenched in my new-found writing endeavours that I felt better, mentally, than I had in years. I wanted to try something else, to prove that putting 90,000 words together the first time hadn’t been a fluke.

For a while I’d had an idea rattling around in my brain about an office rivalry that turned deadly. What if I had a crack at that instead?

So I did. And over the course of the next year the story took me on journeys I’d never imagined.

As someone who is what authors refer to as a ‘pantser’ – meaning I don’t sit down and write out my entire plot in advance, but instead sit down and write whatever comes into my head – it’s fair to say the book I set out to write isn’t the one I ended up with. But I liked this one so much more.

It’s called Troublemaker, and it tells the story of a feisty, popular showbiz reporter, on a website not unlike Metro, whose life is destroyed by a mysterious new colleague – leaving her to wonder if her murky past is back to haunt her.

It’s a dark comedy rather than a straight psychological thriller – since I realised early on in this process I wrote better if I went for a humour angle – but still taps into my fascination with how we treat each other.

And yet, even as I was still trying to get somewhere with the first book, having had some great feedback but no bites, early readers started telling me this one was better.

My mind was made up. I polished it up and hit the submissions trail, this time targeting small presses over agents. I sent out sample chapters and a synopsis, then I sat back and waited.

That’s when the requests to see a full manuscript started coming.

Four of them, to be precise.

A request doesn’t necessarily mean they’re going to publish you, but considering even the smallest of publishers are swamped with submissions, most of which will ultimately be rejected, I realised this was promising.

It was the fourth of those publishers – Vulpine Press – that said yes, nearly two years after I’d sat down on that life-changing night and written those opening paragraphs. Suffice to say my mind was blown.

I was so nervous during my initial phone chat with my editor, Mark, that I couldn’t stop shaking.

But as a dedicated humour editor, I knew straight away I wanted to work with him.

Now, after months of editing, prepping for publication and buying a whole load of new clothes that match my pink book cover, Troublemaker is out there. And I couldn’t be more proud of it.

I’m currently working on two other manuscripts – including a rewrite of that first one – and hoping there’ll be many others to follow.

I tell anyone I meet who has an idea lurking in their head to give the whole writing thing a go. If I can do it, anyone can.

At the grand old age of 53 and seven months I’ve achieved my lifetime’s ambition of becoming a published author. Although I have to pinch myself sometimes at the thought there’s a book out there with my name on it.

But best of all? I’ve not had to take a single antidepressant or see a mental health specialist for over two and a half years.

Guess that advice my therapist gave me about writing down your feelings worked. 

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

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