Some are born with silver spoons in their mouths. Michael Forester was born with a pen in his hand.
Of course, it was immediately pinched by his big brother who put it on a shelf too high for him to reach. He got his own back though. He nicked his brother’s abacus and hid behind the sofa with it. Thus his accountancy and entrepreneurial career was born, but always clouded by a nagging suspicion that his true calling had something to do with writing.
By the time he was 30 he was finally tall enough to reach the shelf, and took down the pen. This induced a bout of split personality disorder in which he oscillated between pillaging the stock market and writing books teaching others how to make incalculably vast sums of money (one was called Going for Growth and the other, How to Make More Profit). Unfortunately, they didn’t make incalculably vast sums of money themselves.
The millennium year saw a complete volte-face (millennia can be quite feisty like that, Michael says – still, not to worry, he’s fully prepared for the next one) in which he determined to devote his life to poetry, fiction and life writing. The first result was If It Wasn’t For That Dog, about his first year with his beloved hearing dog, Matt. (Michael has been severely deafened from the age of 30). A second edition of the book was published at the end of 2016.
In 2017 Michael will release two new books: Forest Rain, a collection of Spiritual Learnings for A New Age and A Home For Other gods, a dystopian novella exploring the abuse of bureaucratic power.
Now at the venerable age of 60 Michael divides his time between Tenerife and the UK and travels internationally speaking and signing in support of his work. He numbers dryads and angels amongst his closest friends.
His children look on aghast as he squanders their inheritance on such profligacies as A4 printing paper and laser toner cartridges.
They need have no concern. He plans to leave them the pen.