Why I Wrote Twit-Twoo the Owl

I’ve lived a fair amount of my adult life with long‑term mental health challenges, chronic illness, and an invisible disability. These things shape my days in ways that aren’t always obvious from the outside. Some mornings are uphill before they’ve even begun; some tasks take more energy than they should; some moments require a quiet pause before I can carry on. I don’t share every detail, but I don’t hide from it either. These experiences are part of who I am, and they’ve taught me a great deal about patience, resilience, and the importance of being honest with yourself.

Humour has always been one of my most reliable tools. Not the loud, slapstick kind — more the dry, self‑aware sort that helps you breathe through the difficult bits. It’s helped me steady myself, connect with others, and keep moving forward even when life feels heavy. That balance of honesty and humour is something I try to bring into my writing, because children feel these things too, even if they don’t always have the words for them yet.

My struggles are a big part of why I wrote Twit‑Twoo the Owl. I wanted to create a story that gently shows children that it’s okay not to be okay. It’s okay to wobble, to feel different, to have days where things don’t go to plan. What matters is knowing that you’re not alone, and that there are ways to cope, grow, and find your own voice. If children can learn that early — that difference isn’t a flaw, and that courage often looks quiet — then they carry that understanding with them for life.

I believe stories can help children feel seen. They can help them recognise their own feelings, understand others, and realise that strength doesn’t always look loud or confident. Sometimes it looks like trying again. Sometimes it looks like asking for help. Sometimes it looks like simply being yourself.

If you’re here because you care about a child who struggles — with their mental health, with disability, with neurodivergence, or simply with the ups and downs of growing up — I hope my work offers a little comfort and a little courage.