The Dark Echoes in My Childhood Stories: What My Early Writing Revealed
Growing up as an identical twin in a crowded cottage in Seventies England shaped my world. Eve (my mirror image twin) and I were born in 1965. She was right‑handed, and I am left. For years we shared a bedroom, sometimes with other siblings. Our twinship was a buffer against my childhood chaos: Dad’s mental illness, poverty, and the volatile atmosphere that hung over the house.
And yet, creativity flourished. Having younger siblings and niblings, I had an audience for my stories and pantomimes. My diaries testify of spending time in the playhouse, sitting on the swing, and inventing mysteries. Nan’s (maternal) visits brought stability, against the ructions that often broke out.
In 1977, I began writing in a small blue Letts’ Schoolgirl’s Diary. The pages were tiny but tell a lot about a child who hated school and often zoned out in a fantasy world. That diary marks the beginning of my lifelong documentation — and the evolution of my children’s stories.
My early stories were strange. My analysis have shown something hidden and sinister.
My childhood stories were filled with murders, abductions, disappearances and deaths. In Beware Danger (written March 1975), a child is kidnapped and buried. Rock‑falls and cliff‑top deaths bury bodies. My analysis book, Tales from Daler Cottage analyses all my early stories in full.
The themes repeated are:
kidnapped children
buried victims
missing boys
Dead or vanished children
I wrote these without seeing these patterns.
In The Mad Professor (written 26 March 1975), the heroine is eaten alive by an alligator, then burns and splits the creature in half.
In On My Own (written 19 May 1975), the narrator finds a book foretelling the world’s end in 1985. Snow falls. I am torn from my family. When I finally reunite with them years later, I no longer know them.
Adoptions and alienation haunt my children’s mysteries too.
In April 1985, I began my first novel, The Lessons. I’m writing ‘big’ now. It took almost thirty years to complete. The opening chapter brings snow and alienation, just like On My Own (written years before). The heroine drops a book at a crossroads (again). Missing children, dead bodies, and alienation weaves yet again into the plot of my adult stories. The same goes for my artwork.
Looking back, I ask myself the question I couldn’t ask as a child.
How did I not see it?
The missing, the dead, the alienated girl — they were everywhere in my writing. They were trying to tell me something about my toddlerhood. Yes, my toddlerhood. Long before I uncovered the horrible truth when I reached fifty‑one.
These early stories were not just imagination. They were warnings of a dark corner buried in my head. I am not allowed to see it.
In Tales from Daler Cottage, I explore these childhood writings in depth — not as fiction, but as clues to a past I could not face. I am now working in ‘forensics’.
And yet, creativity flourished. Having younger siblings and niblings, I had an audience for my stories and pantomimes. My diaries testify of spending time in the playhouse, sitting on the swing, and inventing mysteries. Nan’s (maternal) visits brought stability, against the ructions that often broke out.
My First Diary: 1977 and the Birth of My Inner World
In 1977, I began writing in a small blue Letts’ Schoolgirl’s Diary. The pages were tiny but tell a lot about a child who hated school and often zoned out in a fantasy world. That diary marks the beginning of my lifelong documentation — and the evolution of my children’s stories.
My early stories were strange. My analysis have shown something hidden and sinister.
The Haunted House and Other Early Stories
My childhood stories were filled with murders, abductions, disappearances and deaths. In Beware Danger (written March 1975), a child is kidnapped and buried. Rock‑falls and cliff‑top deaths bury bodies. My analysis book, Tales from Daler Cottage analyses all my early stories in full.
The themes repeated are:
kidnapped children
buried victims
missing boys
Dead or vanished children
I wrote these without seeing these patterns.
Recurring Deaths and Disfigurement
In The Mad Professor (written 26 March 1975), the heroine is eaten alive by an alligator, then burns and splits the creature in half.
In On My Own (written 19 May 1975), the narrator finds a book foretelling the world’s end in 1985. Snow falls. I am torn from my family. When I finally reunite with them years later, I no longer know them.
Adoptions and alienation haunt my children’s mysteries too.
The Lessons: A Novel That Took 30 Years
In April 1985, I began my first novel, The Lessons. I’m writing ‘big’ now. It took almost thirty years to complete. The opening chapter brings snow and alienation, just like On My Own (written years before). The heroine drops a book at a crossroads (again). Missing children, dead bodies, and alienation weaves yet again into the plot of my adult stories. The same goes for my artwork.
Looking back, I ask myself the question I couldn’t ask as a child.
How did I not see it?
My novel took 30 years to write.
These early stories were not just imagination. They were warnings of a dark corner buried in my head. I am not allowed to see it.
In Tales from Daler Cottage, I explore these childhood writings in depth — not as fiction, but as clues to a past I could not face. I am now working in ‘forensics’.
Links to other articles
If you’re new to my memoir, you can begin with:- Start Here — an
introduction to the 10‑part series
- About my diaries — the beliefs I held before discovering
the truth
- How I learned the truth about my toddlerhood —
where the journey to the truth begins
- Buy my books from Amazon.
- About me
- Themes in my work
- Books page - describing on this blog what my books are about.
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