Knocking on Doors

Thirty-eight years ago at the age of nine I carried this little red case on a plane to New Zealand when my grandmother and I left England for a new life.

Last week I packed my red case with copies of my memoir Full tilt and reintroduced the door-to-door salesWOMAN to my local neighbourhood, meeting some lovely people along the way. This week I went further afield and began knocking on doors in the suburb of Northcote.

A few minutes into my day I knocked on the door of a beautiful, two-story wooden villa overlooking the Waitemata Harbour.

The owner arrived at the door dressed in a crisp long-sleeved checked shirt and trousers with a dog at each side. He announced that he too, was a writer and invited me into his library to show me his collection of books that he had written.

He also enthusiastically described the Masters in Creative Writing University course that he had recently completed.

This was on Thursday.
By Friday I had enrolled in a Masters of Screenwriting.
The following Tuesday I attended my first lecture.

I love how knocking on doors can literally change one’s life!

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