Can you remember where you were in August 2011?
I can. The memory is burned into my mind.
Our capital city was on fire, and for four seventeen-hour overnight shifts, I was part of a Metropolitan Police command team, as a Public Order CADRE commander, deployed to restore order to the streets —while the world watched. With the Olympics and Queen’s Diamond Jubilee celebrations looming, the pressure to restore London’s reputation was immense.
One moment stands out. I was standing on a dais at Hendon Police Training College, dressed in flameproof overalls, facing a briefing room the size of an aircraft hangar. It was packed with hundreds of specialist Public Order trained officers drafted in from across the country. As I scanned the room before delivering my operational briefing, I realised — with much surprise— that I was the only woman in the room. It was only then that it struck me that this was not how most women chose to spend their Saturday nights!
If you had told me then that fifteen years later, I would be writing a Substack post as a published author, I would have laughed. I’d barely read a book in three decades of earlies, lates and nights, quick changeovers and one weekend off in four. The idea of writing one? Not a chance!
So when I hung up my Superintendent’s epaulettes for the last time in 2015, after thirty years of being governed by policy and procedure, legislation and regulations, I knew that I was ready for a creative outlet — but the idea of writing was not even on my radar.
To begin with, I tried pottery (too many wonky pots), dressmaking (too many unwearable garments), cake decorating (way too much fondant) and photography (I’m still sorting an archive of 100,000 photos). Each was enjoyable, but none quite stuck.
The idea of creative writing only surfaced in 2022, when my husband made an unexpected discovery in the loft. Buried among the forgotten boxes was one of my school exercise books. Inside were stories I’d written at the age of fifteen. He read them, and with uncharacteristic enthusiasm, declared that they were really rather good.
I was sceptical, but he was insistent. Within fifteen minutes, he’d found an online writing course, and I was signed up for it.
That was the moment that changed everything. Within three years, my debut novel Under the Hickory Treewas published by The Book Guild. Even now, I sometimes pick up a copy to reassure myself it’s real.
So how did that happen?
After learning the nuts and bolts of how to create characters and tell stories on the course, I pitched up at the first Bournemouth Writing Festival in 2023, with a complete manuscript in my bag, and no idea whatsoever about the publishing industry. I believed that agents were people you hired, and publishers were people who provided the resources to lick a promising manuscript into shape. I also believed the hard part was writing the book. How wrong could I have been?
The BWF was a revelation.
Listening to other writers, agents and industry professionals exposed just how complex and opaque the process of getting your words out there can be. I learned there were multiple routes to publishing, each with its own challenges. The question now was which route to choose.
I’d learned enough to know that as a complete novice, I wanted someone to hold my hand through the process the first time around. That ruled out self-publishing immediately, yet I found the agent submission process to be both time-consuming and soul-destroying. So I chose a middle path and approached the Book Guild, a publishing company for independent authors whose presentation I’d seen at the BWF. I developed sudden onset leaky eye syndrome the day the letter arrived in 2024 with their offer.
What followed was, and continues to be, a steep learning curve. On a scale from sea level to summiting Everest, I’d say I’ve reached base camp. Two challenges stand out:
The first is social media. I still find this very difficult. As a former cop, every instinct I have is towards protecting personal information. Building a public profile feels counterintuitive. It’s one of the reasons I use a pen name.
The second is marketing. The idea I would one day create polished advertising using design software would have seemed laughable back in 2011. And yet here I am with a solid Canva portfolio, thanks once again to the BWF, where I connected with a presenter who taught these dark arts.
Under the Hickory Tree was published in June 2025. It’s an epic, transatlantic, multi-generational adventure, rooted in my love of genealogy and the secrets of the past. People often ask me why I don’t write crime novels. The answer is simple. I’ve had enough of crime. Real crime isn’t entertaining, and real criminals are not intriguing. Having been exposed to the reality of crime for thirty years, I prefer to write stories with a message of hope. It’s something I believe we could all do with more of.
Seeing my book in print was, without question, a significant milestone, but it was not the end of the journey. If anything, it marked the beginning of my transition from ‘former cop’ to ‘author’ — a new identity that involves not just writing, but engagement with the broader ecosystem of books.
Through courses, festivals and groups like Author Events and the Society of Authors, I’ve found a tribe of like-minded, generous and genuinely supportive people. These are individuals who understand the peculiar challenges of writing, who are willing to share their experiences, and who are always ready to talk about the things that matter to us. I used to think that Policing was about teamwork, and writing was a solitary endeavour. I know differently now.
Looking back, writing was not an obvious choice. It was not something I had planned or even seriously considered. And yet it has become the most meaningful of all the creative pursuits I experimented with after retirement.
I set out looking for a hobby. I found a second career, a new community, and a different way of thinking that continues to challenge me.
You could say I am my own Work In Progress.
We are all works in progress. Good point. Excellent article. Thanks, Jo.
Good stuff Jo. Thanks.