The Words of Danny Kemp.

The view from the cab
On the days that I am able to drag my dispirited soul away from comfort of my home, and do battle amongst the crazies on the roads into London, me and Betsy, that’s my cab, drive through the aptly named Blackwall Tunnel. Whatever evocative image you may have of the English countryside this dark and dingy hole under the Thames could not possibly be one of them. It was constructed sometime in the last century when air extraction and the width and speed of vehicles were never a major consideration. If there is a breakdown in there and you suffer from any breathing compliant, then I would suggest prayer as your only answer. As a contrast, but sadly in the opposite direction to my weekly sojourns into the City, is the tiny hamlet of Ham, where my paternal grandparents are buried. Nearby there is a fishing harbour on the Channel coast, the name of which it shares on a popular photographed sign-post with Ham. It is called Sandwich. The sign-post unfortunately was stolen, then replaced, and stolen again, many times over. Now there signs but not posted together. The inevitable remark would be I guess…..A sign of the times!


About Danny Kemp

I was at work one sunny November day in 2006, stopped at a red traffic light when a van, driven incompetently, smashed into me. I was taken to St Thomas' Hospital and kept in for a while, but it was not only the physical injuries that I suffered from; it was also mental ones. I had lost confidence in myself let alone those around me. The experts said that I had post-traumatic stress disorder, which I thought only the military or emergency personnel suffered from. On good days, I attempted to go to work, sometimes I even made it through Blackwell Tunnel only to hear, or see, something that made me jump out of my skin and that's when the anxiety attacks would start. I told my wife that I was okay and going regularly, but I wasn't. I could not cope with life and thought about ending it. Somehow or other with the help of my wife and medical professionals, I managed to survive and ever so slowly rebuild my self-esteem. It took almost four years to fully recover, but it was during those dark depressive days that I began to write. My very first story, Look Both Ways, Then Look Behind, found a literary agent but not a publisher. He told me that I had a talent, raw, but nevertheless, it was there. His advice was to write another story and that I'm delighted to say, I did. The success of that debut novel, The Desolate Garden, was down to sheer hard work, luck, and of course, meeting a film producer.
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2 Responses to The Words of Danny Kemp.

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