At 15 I was scared and isolated. Seven years later I’m grateful to my younger self for taking the advice of a teacher and finding a voice just when it mattered mostThat Saturday was significant only in hindsight. I was 15. It was 6 November 2010, and I had just been to what was generously described as a training day for my school’s new journalism team. The teacher organising the day had suggested I start a blog as a good way to get into writing. Bored and in need of a project, I got home, raced upstairs and set up a Blogger account. I was ready to go.As I typed post after badly written post in the months that followed, I assumed I would run out of steam. My laptop was filled with the beginning of novels, half-finished song lyrics, the odd poem – things I’d started in a fit of teenage enthusiasm only to be disappointed by my lack of creative flair. Continue reading…

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The Guardian