Stringing words together
At the age of sixteen, I decided to leave school and become a writer. My father thought I was mad. So did most of my relatives. I applied to the Herald, but in those days you needed a university degree to even be a copy boy. So I became a messenger boy at Radio 2GB.
I went there because they produced more radio drama than other networks, and a year later I was writing some of it. My dad still thought I should take a sensible job in a bank. People in those days believed banks provided lifetime security So, my dad asked, would I have lifetime security at 2GB. “Good God,” I said, “I hope not!”
