I fell into writing. I was a bit lost at the time. I couldn’t juggle running my business with looking after my little boys so I’d recently closed the cake shop I loved (you should’ve seen our cakes) and felt a bit of a failure. And then came a freak stroke of luck. I caught the tail end of a writing competition on ITV’s Lorraine show, something I’d have missed were my shop still open, and emailed an entry in quick sharp. A few weeks later on live tv I won the trip to LA and, prize of prizes, a book deal. Jackie Collins took me for lunch in Beverly Hills, gave me some sound advice and there began my new life as a writer. My debut turned bestseller and my books are now published in something like twenty countries. Life can be funny like that.
Erin Knight
I am always late! Not hideously, I think 5-10 minutes is about standard. I always think I can cram in one more thing before I have to haul ass. It’s the optimist in me… the optimist who never learns.
I married the boy who tied me to a goalpost at 11! It must’ve been the blue-eyed bad boy thing. Or that he only lived four doors down which made meeting up for a crafty snog pretty convenient. We’ve been together for 23 years now, have three smashing sons - Rad, Loch and Jesse – and a ridiculous dog, Jasper. Life is chaotic. We’re stupid-busy renovating a near derelict Victorian townhouse, dragging up three kids aged 3-13 and fixing whatever latest disaster Jasper’s created. In the last few months alone that dog has broken my nose, flung himself off a two-storey high log pile and eaten two of the many toddler poos my 3yo refuses to deposit in the toilet. Is this how normal people live? I’m not sure, so I’m documenting it all in high-gruesome-definition over at www.ThisKnightLife.com.
The plots of my books are usually inspired by issues that bother me. My new book Perfect Strangers was sparked by all the crappy things I kept seeing in the press about internet trolls and revenge porn… the kind of stuff certain types think is ok when hiding behind a screen or username. The kind of stuff my kids will have to navigate in this new world of smartphones.
I lost my little sister just over a year ago. Actually we didn’t lose Mena. She died. Technically she was killed by a cruel hateful disease, Ewing’s Sarcoma. She was two weeks away from her 30th birthday and she was brilliant. Grief’s a strange landscape, one I’m trying to get used to because I suspect I’ll be here for a while. Mena’s death has changed everything. The way I see people… the things I won’t accept anymore... I’m trying to figure out how to live my best life, in case she’s watching.
I’m quite a stupid person. I’ve nearly bitten my tongue off (have excellent tongue scar) fallen in a canal and have been winded by a set of train doors at 8 months pregnant jumping onto the train I was about to miss. (See, always late.) I was convinced Rad was going to be born with an indented head. He wasn’t, thank gawd.
I’m loyal. I would say, fiercely so. I’m also very unforgiving. I try not to be, but I’m the sort who lets people push and push until a point of no return is breached. Then it’s game over. For eternity. So play nice.
I love music. Music is where I find the best motivation to write. It’s also where I sort my head out. And it’s where I find my sister now.
I hate my belly button being touched! I’d be useless in hand-to-hand combat. One prod in the bellybutton and I’d be toast.
I make a kickass cake. Flaming chocolate skull? Sure thing. Although, I should mention, I’m still waiting for Knighty to rebuild our derelict kitchen.
