Fuelled by grief: why I write crime fiction

A decade older than me, Mandy was a major influence on my writer's journey when, in my early 20s, I lived in Sydney. I was working shifts in a railway station bookstall, returning on the ferry to bash out a story on my Olympia typewriter in the shade of a jacaranda tree. Mandy read through my drafts, occasionally laughing at bits intended to be poignant - her feedback was anything but tippy-toed. She encouraged me, discussed the pitfalls, agonies and the joys of writing, and sent me back to do redrafts. Hanging out with Mandy in her study, I'd gaze at scene cards lining the walls while she told me the importance of structure and suspense. Through Mandy I learnt how important it is to have a trusted few who believe you can write. She set me on the road.