In the summer of 2009 Ken suffered a series of heart failures and during one of his near death experiences he had a very unusual encounter. (see the gift below).

During and since his recovery he has been compelled to write.

To date he has eleven books in print with several more in manuscript.

He has also co-written a series of twenty books for children with his daughter Angie and has contributed to several anthologies.


It was mid summers day, the longest day of the year

and one that I shall never forget. I had made dinner and we had just sat down to eat when it happened. I was there and then I wasn't. I was suddenly transported to a surreal place. Vague images flashed before my eyes in slow motion. Then there was the roof on an ambulance reflecting blue flashing lights, people panicking and then my spirit was lifted. I hovered above my body, an onlooker at my own moment of death.

I was floating somewhere in the mists of time, somewhere between dreams and reality I was existing in another world. Someone approached through the thinly drawn veil of death. A very tall, elderly gentleman he was balding and had a kind smile. He spoke softly and introduced himself with a foreign sounding name but in perfect English.

"Hello Ken please don't be afraid we are not ready for you yet, it's not your time, you are going back, but before you go I have a gift for you." He handed me a little blue fountain pen. "This was mine; I received it after an awful plane crash and it started my writing career. I wrote a lot of books with it. Although I can't use it here it still has lots to say, lots of stories to tell. It's my gift to you, take it back with you and use it well."

That was all that I remembered until the clattering and chattering of reality. "He's back with us, just relax, you are in hospital, you are going to be alright." Whatever experience I had been through had left me with a terrible thirst. "Could I have some water please and some writing paper?" I don't know why I asked for the writing paper but the pretty nurse soon obliged. "I'll put it on the locker." As I turned to pick up the water I noticed something really strange. Already on the locker was the little blue fountain pen. It spoke to me. "Use me well." It cried out to be picked up, to be held. I felt its warm glow as I unscrewed the top and put its nib onto the paper. The words flowed from it.

It was mid summers day, the longest day of the year ..................... Since then Ken has written several books and numerous short stories and poems, some of which have been published in anthologies (Uncovering Gems, Writing in Focus, Book of Dreams and Norfolk Tales).


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