Kate Rose has a First class degree from King’s College, London and a Masters degree in Creative and Life Writing (biography) from Goldsmiths University. As a journalist, Kate has written articles on travel, food and health. Kate has previously worked as an editor for an independent book publisher. Kate has jointly published a non-fiction book on heart disease and stroke. She is also a fiction writer and her short stories have won prizes and appeared on various websites. Her historical fiction novel was long-listed for the Aurora Metro International Women’s Novel Competition.
Kate loves long walks, good food and reading. She lives in London with her husband, daughter, dog, hamster and several thousand books.
As a Story Terrace writer, Kate interviews customers and turns their life stories into books. Get to know her better: you can read an autobiographical story of her own below. Get in touch today to work with her!
I used to believe that to be a good writer, one needed time, quietness and a personal chef or, if not a chef, then a willing husband. I used to believe that writing required great sacrifice and that writing and life were somehow separate entities. Then I broke my self-imposed rule and had a child and for a time I was proved right. My daughter paled books into insignificance. Why would anybody want to write when they might watch a human grow? This was surely the ultimate creativity.
But the itch to write never left. Pretty soon I was back at my desk, praying the sabbatical hadn’t turned creative muscles to creative puddles. Yet what I found surprised me. The impinging of real life had a positive, not a destructive, effect. I became more frugal with words, more discerning. I said what I wanted to say more concisely, as a mother gives a brief sharp, ‘No’ to a toddler whose hands wave flagrantly over plug sockets. I felt a far stronger desire to encapsulate life upon the page. To understand its miraculous essence. And I found that, in time, the lack of time provided opportunity for growth. I worked harder and with greater verve and laughed in the faces of social media apps as I tapped heartily away. Thus, I battled with time and, somehow, I won.
These days, when the real world threatens to cross my study door to crowd the sanctity of writing, I take a deep breath and smile. I picture that poor, frequently used oyster, frowning upon the little flecks of dirt entering her home and I think, yes, this image may be overused but it’s certainly apt. Grit of all kinds is necessary for creativity. It is, you might say, its primary fuel. And so, like the oyster, I believe now in the power of alchemy. Give me more grit, I say. More grit and I will fashion a suitable pearl. Isn’t that the best thing to do with life’s tumultuous challenges and adventures, use them to make wonderful and enduring…