Early signs

There were early signs that my life and career would revolve around having a pen in my hand. 

I emerged from the womb saying, 'I wandered lonely as a  

I arrived at Coten End Junior School in Warwick when I was eight years old. I'd lived in Singapore with my mum, dad and sisters for two years in a suburb of the city set aside for British military families. We arrived back in England in 1970.

So I landed at Coten End mid-term, my hair scissored so close to my head because of the equatorial heat of Singapore that when the teacher announced to the class, 'This is your new classmate, called Frances' all the boys cheered, thinking another male had been added to their number. When the penny dropped, I got a cheer from the girls instead, but more muted, as they peered at me doubtfully. 

It was an awkward start. 

However, I redeemed myself that day when the class realised I could do 'double writing' - cursive script I had learned in Singapore. They were all still 'printing' in large rounded letters, and they crowded round my desk, oohing and aahing, while I demonstrated my skill. 

The next talent with which I surprised them was my ability to spell 'diarrhoea' and 'soliloquy'. I don't know why I remember these two words in particular but I can see myself now, taking the chalk from the teacher's hands and scrawling them on the board. She would then toss other words at me such as 'accommodation' or 'necessarily' or 'pharaoh' and I would perform my party trick.

I don't know why some people are natural spellers but I've always been one. Ask me to do long division, however, or name all the continents, or sew a decent hem, and I will sorely disappoint.  

I think what impressed my classmates most, however, was my mirror-writing ability. Some of them had never had ambitions to spell 'diarrhoea' anyway but all of them wanted to learn to mirror-write once I'd covered the board in backwards-script one playtime. 

I can still do it. And I hardly have to think about it. Let me grab my mini-whiteboard. 

I nearly broke my neck on the stairs taking this. 

Okay, so I can spell 'diarrhoea' and write backwards. It's not something I'd win prizes for. But NOW I've got myself wondering whether I can write backwards in cursive script. 

Wait there. Don't go away! 

Just finding the whiteboard pen again .....

And here goes. 

Not too shabby an attempt. But not perfect. 

The other people I impressed at my junior school were the dinner ladies and this was with my limerick-writing. I would make up limericks for them in exchange for extra helpings of sponge pudding and custard or jam roly poly. 

This kind of guff ....

A lady who served children pud

would do it as well as she could

but one day for custard

did substitute mustard

which obviously did them no good.

Shakespeare can rest comfortable in his grave, but I do believe this was the beginning of my career as a writer, as well as kick-starting a long struggle with pudding-addiction. 

What were the early signs for you that you would be a writer some day? Tell me and others in the comments below. 

And, no, whoever shouted from the back. I can't say limericks backwards. Honestly! So demanding! 

Fran is a writer and teacher living in Leamington Spa, Warwickshire, and her new book 'Miss, What Does Incomprehensible Mean?' is being released later this month by SPCK Publishing. It's a funny and life-affirming memoir of a year in a teacher's life, has not been written backwards, and is available for £7.99 from SPCK . Most major bookshops are also listing it. You can find out more about the book, about Fran or about her other writing by visiting her website right here