I'd just read a book that was following a worn formula, had typos, and a throwaway ending. More and more, I found myself thinking I could write a better story.
Then it was a case of spending an hour before and two hours after work, writing everyday for a year.
Several times over four years I would return and tweak it. Sometimes removing chunks to fit in with a word count I'd read was the appropriate length for fiction. Then a month later, I'd return and re-insert the chunks and / or add more words blowing the word count out of the water.
In July 2019, I had a coffee with a media contact. After swapping war stories, he joked that I should write a book about my experiences. I told him that actually I had written a book (of fiction), and but didn't think anyone would actually want to read it.
He asked me what the first line was and when I told him, he said, "I want to read it. Get it published and I will read it. Too many people write books and shove the manuscript away without it ever seeing the light of day."
I'm now with a finished draft and looking for a literary agent. At least there will be one reader of The Wheelhouse.