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You Are Missed Everyday, Gran

Dearest Gran, Words can’t describe how much I miss you. It has been too long since we said goodbye but it doesn’t ease the pain that you’re not around anymore. The days do not get easier, they get harder as there are so many things I wish I could share with you now that you’re gone. I made a promise to you that I would become a writer, its your encouragement that spurred me in the first place. Today on your birthday I can tell you that I’ve published three books in your memory and my next is on its way. It in no way makes me successful in your goal for me but it is a step in the right direction. I owe any future success that may come from my endeavours to you. You are my inspiration for this and I sincerely hope you can look down and be proud of what I’ve done in your memory.

Gran, I wish you could be here to be able to share my future joy. I have some nervous times ahead and again look at you for inspiration. You took me in when I needed it and I spent the best years of my life by your side. I have so many fond memories of spending time with you watching episodes of Land of the Giants and The Littlest Hobo as well as lost hours of listening to Michael Crawford, Roy Orbison and Adam Solo (Jackie) playing his guitar in your living room. I can’t listen to Bobby Goldsboro’s Honey or Crawford’s Music of the Night without being reduced to floods of tears, as I see your face as soon as they start to play. I love my parents and my stepmum very dearly but you are the reason for my being today and I can’t thank you enough for that.

I love you, Gran and I miss you every single day. Happy Birthday with all my love, Liane xxx


Why I Want To Be A Writer…For Gran

When I was a kid I used to love writing stories so much. Every Sunday afternoon I would sit in my Gran’s living room and pen only 3 or 4 pages but I enjoyed doing it. Then she would read them and tell me what she thought. Every time she would tell me that she loved them even though they were probably terrible.

At 9 years old she would tell me that I will be a writer some day and that I should never give up. I used to write adventurous stories about space, time travelling tornados, the aftermath of a nuclear attack and being stuck in a school for survival, a plane crashing in the middle of a field. That sort of thing. I had a wild imagination at that age. No one knew where this came from, I certainly didn’t. But it felt like I was there.

After my parents got divorced I would write a lot to distance myself from everything. A few people said my mind was messed up but my Gran would dismiss these comments and say my mind was creative and should be encouraged. “Never give up what you love,” she said, “You have the ability to make people laugh, cry and be scared by what you write.”

I wrote many short stories up until I was 14, then other distractions got in the way and I couldn’t concentrate anymore and I turned to poetry instead.

It wasn’t until the worst day of my life back on 25th July 2005 when she died that I made a promise to myself to never give up on what I love. My world came crashing down around me and I picked myself up by writing again. It’s getting close to when her birthday should be (7th June) and thinking about those times more than ever is reminding me of exactly why I’m so desperate to be a successful writer and why I get so annoyed at myself when I can’t get the words on paper even though they’re flowing through my mind. It’s because I don’t want to let her down. The last thing she said to me before she died was keep writing and I made her a promise that I would. I just wish she was around to see it.

So there you go, these are my reasons and if you can hear me, Gran, everything I do is because of you. Because of you I’m the person I am today and I miss you so much. Thank You.

Its all going on now!

My second book is in process of being published. For some people I have to thank for that, Libby Hutchby, Claire Cochran and Bronagh to name just a few…it’s down to you I decided to put my poems together…thank you for your kind words. To this I dedicate it to my dearly missed Gran, June Checkley, who took us in and gave us a home when we needed it. A person who I will never forget and miss every single day. I love you, Gran. Until we meet again.
Keep your eyes peeled for A Book of Poems by Liane Hoare coming soon on