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The copies of the sagas above have been with me since 1984, when I was
thirteen.
When I had hair I was platinum
blond (clearly Norse ancestors); from a Yorkshire family (on three
sides of my grandparents); in York itself (the
capital of Vikings) during the time when they were still digging up Coppergate (you could buy a thousand year old oyster shell for
10p - I did and have lost it) - then the sagas seemed a natural fascination for
me.
But the door from Coppergate to the secret
garden of ancient Iceland was actually provided by Tolkien - whose
books turned me from a dyslexic under-achiever in the remedial
reading class into an avid reader.
And from then I wanted nothing
else but to create stories and write.
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