In a terrifying turn of events, I quit my job.

This is terrifying mostly because it was brave, and brave things feel scary to people who are not, as a general rule, brave. My place on the bravery scale can be summed up by the fact that I went to the World Bog Snorkelling Championships with my mum last week and literally hid behind her to avoid being splashed with bog water when someone swam by a bit too enthusiastically.

So yeah. Quitting my job with no new job = pretty bloody scary. But thankfully you’re here with me. And now I am going to confide in you the scariest bit of all: I quit my job because I have a dream to chase and I’m fed up of watching it run away. It is a dream so failable that I can hardly bear to admit that I’m bothering to chase it at all, but here we are.

My name is Amy Harwell, and I am a writer.

Now get your running shoes, because we’re chasing the bastard down.