My inspiration for writing Crossing the Line

I don’t believe I was randomly struck by a flash of inspiration to write. Rather, I believe inspiration is a process, one that comes from within and is borne from experiences, the environment, role models, our senses, and the behaviours of those around us.

Then there is motivation, which can often be confused with inspiration. Motivation usually involves an external influence, giving us purpose and a reason to act. It often serves as a method of persuasion.

Dad taking me to enlist in the Royal Corps of Signals - I was 15!

As a small child, I can remember my mother reading stories to me, and one of her favourites was Rupert Bear. Much to my brother's utter indignation, my mother spent the entire night creating a huge Rupert Bear head made from paper-mâché, spread around a balloon. She then made him wear the head, complete with yellow checked trousers and a red scarf, to a school fancy-dress competition the following day. My mother's inner creativity and love of Rupert Bear inspired her to make the costume. She was motivated to persuade her hapless child to wear it, which eventually resulted in success at the competition- he came first!

Operational patrol

One of my most defining and strongest recollections of inspiration and motivation came when I was a young soldier serving in the British Army of the Rhine (Germany), and for a while, responsible for the armed close protection and provision of communications to Major General Sir David Calthrop Thorne KBE CVO.

During one international exercise, I was asked to attend a helipad some miles away, where another British Army general was due to arrive. I was ordered to drive him to a meeting with Sir David and others to discuss the strategy for the ongoing military game of chess between NATO forces. I duly arrived at the helipad. After the Gazelle helicopter arrived, the visiting general ran to and boarded the Safari Land Rover, and we set off in silence as I drove back to headquarters. A lack of conversation during the journey was not uncommon due to army discipline and respect for rank. Of course, I was merely a corporal compared with the two-star general, who was more than twelve ranks higher than me!

Then, during the journey, after the general had regained his breath and posture following his short sprint from the helicopter, he turned to me and asked how long the journey would take. I sat for a moment in silence, trying to comprehend not what he had said but how he had said it; he had spoken with a Geordie accent just like mine. I was shocked! This man, who was one of the highest-ranking commanders in the British Army, sounded as if he came from Newcastle. I quickly answered his question, reassuring the general that the journey would not take too long, and then silence returned. My mind was racing after hearing his accent. After a short pause, and summoning all the courage I could ever imagine, I asked him if he indeed came from the Northeast. To which he replied, ‘Wey aye lad, I have working-class roots and was born in Blyth.'

Weapon cleaning

‘Blyth, Blyth,’ I thought, my dad worked in a power station for the Central Electricity Generating Board (CEGB) in Blyth. I was astonished that someone born and raised in the same place and social class as I could ever have achieved such prodigious superiority and importance, particularly from a working-class background, and like me, had more than likely endured secondary education. After all, I had left school with just a handful of useless qualifications and with little ambition or enthusiasm, believed I would have no choice but to be enveloped in an unfulfilled existence. So, needing something more and possibly different, I escaped the place of my birth and enlisted in the army, hoping to find an exciting and varied path in life. Much to my mother and father's dismay; which later became an immense source of pride for them.

Back in the Land Rover, the general, obviously having registered my accent, asked where I originated and I sheepishly replied I had been born in Gateshead. His response was to clap his hands together and then say, ‘Wey that’s smashing man, yer mam and dad must be really proud you joined the army.’ I reluctantly nodded and gently smiled. Then something suddenly came to my mind, and I could not let it go. I had to ask him a burning question but did not want to appear discourteous or disrespectful. Again finding all the courage I could muster, I asked, ‘How did a working-class lad from the streets of Blythe achieve such a rank and position you have, Sir?’

Resting before battle

The general wasted no time in explaining that he had also left secondary school with few qualifications,

He recognised that there was something much greater he could do. He needed to achieve more, so he decided to strive further to find success. He used his meagre secondary education qualifications to attend college and eventually succeeded in applying for an Army sixth-form scholarship. He was then granted a graduate bursary to complete a degree at university. Then entered the army as an officer and, due to his continued determination and ambition, quickly rose through the ranks to become a British Army major general.

West Yorkshire Police

Now this becomes a bit blurry because it was quite some time ago, but I can recall the general recounting more of his career history and providing sound inspirational advice, and distinctly remember him saying that everyone who leaves their mother's womb is created equal in life and we all begin on the exact same footing. (This is a loose variation of a George Orwell quotation from Animal Farm!)

Instructing recruits the meaning of deportment!

The general went on to explain that to succeed, as he had, and having encountered personal stereotyping,

discrimination and challenges regarding socio-

economic differences, we (he used the ‘we’ word!) are stronger than we appear, smarter than we think and

braver than we believe. His words captured the strength of self-belief, personal resilience, and the importance of recognising our own worth, importantly, it inspired me to understand that I could do better and motivated me to do well as a soldier, a husband and father and later, a police officer

I am eternally grateful to the great man whom I drove in my Land Rover that day.

Essex Police

So, now I must return to the subject of this blog: my inspiration

for writing Crossing the Line. As I said earlier, I believe inspiration is borne from personal experiences, the environment, role models, our senses and the behaviours of those around us. Along with those perceptions, my inspiration for writing has come from the closest and most influential people in my life. I have been fortunate to have had a hugely varied career in the armed forces, in a war environment and as a police officer, both operationally and strategically. I often worked with and recognised the most incredible role models, but it has always been those closest to me who gave me the inspiration, encouragement and motivation to write.

Chatting to HRH, The Princess Royal at Buckingham Palace

I am immensely proud of my children; my big-hearted son, whose partner works in the NHS and recently gave birth to our beautiful granddaughter. My lovely daughter, who with her husband, do all they can to reduce the harm being done to our planet.

Importantly, my entire ambitious life journey began with my wife, the mother of our two children. We have been together for more years than she would want me to say here. She selflessly supported my career as a soldier during the harrowing experience of the Falklands War and later during my career as a police officer, too many times to the detriment of her own career.

These incredible people are the inspiration and motivation for my writing, and those who have ever met them will understand why. That is why my first novel is dedicated to them.

Detective Superintendent in the Metropolitan Police