|
|
|
|
 |
Chris Shaw - Short Story Writer
Chris Shaw was born in Felixstowe, Suffolk in UK in 1939. For the next six years he was personally attacked by Mr. Hitler who sent flocks of bombers to kill him, even designing pilot-less flying bombs, called 'Doodlebugs', to save on the number of German aircrew killed in the attempt.
A stint at a local Primary school, then a scholarship to Framlingham College, which in UK is called a 'Public School', probably because it is a private school. The scholarship was secured by one word of misunderstanding during a very confusing interview with the headmaster.
Chris was a great success in two fields only - playing the violin and rifle shooting, not a particularly successful career combination I'm sure you'd agree - orchestral assassin perhaps - and total mediocrity at everything else. His school reports were full of potential, mostly of the 'could do better' variety, but no one ever told him how he could improve. Perhaps you can relate. |
 |
A two-year apprenticeship with Boots the Chemists in Tavern Street, Ipswich; a couple of years in Leicester and Portsmouth Technical Colleges, and he became a Pharmacist.
He worked as a medical representative, first in North West London for three years, then seven years in the West Indies in a somewhat expanded role. Here, he lost his youth and his innocence. He became an international traveller, learnt to dance like a West Indian, and learnt to keep well clear of the 'demon' rum.
In 1973, he arrived, with his small family, in Cairns, Far North Queensland, Australia where he spent 20 years building up two Pharmacy businesses.
The defeat of divorce turned into the victory for hope when he met Rebecca. She patiently waited out his depression, and has become his other bookend.
He has two wonderful children, Shean and Tanith who managed to survive all these changes and upheaval with the help of their fine sense of humour.
Chris Shaw says he feels quite out of breath just thinking about it all! |
 |
Encouragement. That's the only word to describe this whole story.
Rebecca, my lovely wife and I had decided to spend a year in UK in 2001-2002, to spend some quality time with my very aged parents. I worked, Rebecca shopped. As a travelling locum pharmacist, I became very stressed with the inconstancy of our lives, changing venue, staff, layout and bed on a weekly or fortnightly basis. To reduce or explain what was happening I began sending e-mailed newsletters to some friends in Australia.
When I returned and put them all together I had 40,000 words, which a deal longer than a two page letter that I have difficulty in writing. I was 'encouraged' to send the result of 29 edits by me to a professional appraiser. She, in turn, gave me 4 out of 10 for an advanced version of 'What I did on my summer holiday', but then she 'encouraged' me to pick out the good bits and enhance them, to do a Bill Bryson sort of dialogue.
I didn't do this, thinking that I could always go back to it. Instead I started writing short stories, stuff from my very varied life and from my very under used imagination. The upshot was that some 5 years later I submitted 25 stories to her for appraisal. She canned seven, but 'encouraged' me to self-publish the eighteen, which I did. It was all a hugely enjoyable exercise.
Never underestimate 'encouragement!' |
|
|
CHRIS SHAW
BOOK CREATORS CIRCLE |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
