a novel by

o h robsson 


Graduate. Dishwasher. Ski racer. Shop assistant. Night porter. Factory worker. Luggage porter. Carpenter.  Photographer. Agency owner. Receptionist. Dog hotel owner. Carpenter again.


And then, novelist*.


I have no idea how other writers become writers, but this was my route, the rags-to-rags journey I took before sitting down one day and beginning to do what i had always wanted to do: fill empty pages with words.  


The first day was difficult. So was the second. Five years later, The Spark was finished.


It's a novel about people and relationships. About animals. About the choices we make and the lives we live. But more than anything, it's just a story to escape into. A place to go when you need a rest from everyday life.


* Can you be a novelist if you only write one novel? I'm not sure. I suspect that if you write a bestseller, you would be described as a novelist even if you only wrote a single novel. But me? For now, I'm just be happy to be a novelist with an asterix.  

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