(The simple version)
Vikki Wakefield was born in Adelaide.
After high school, Vikki worked in banking, journalism, communications and graphic design. In 2009 she enrolled in TAFE's Advanced Diploma of Arts (Professional Writing) and found her voice. Her articles have been published in newspapers and magazines and she is an award-winning short story writer. Two of Vikki's short film scripts are currently in production.
All I Ever Wanted is her first novel.
(The stuff in between)
Vikki Wakefield was born in Adelaide sometime in the seventies.
Vikki learned to read before she started kindergarten and was once disqualified from the MS Readathon (legend has it) because an eight-year-old couldn’t possibly have read 87 chapter books in four weeks. She returned the sponsorship money to the neighbours, including the old woman across the road who’d signed up for a dollar a book and nearly lost her house. Vikki still maintains her innocence.
Vikki went to a public school and like many young girls, she was obsessed with horses. She wanted one more than air and for a while she looked like being a late bloomer. Then she discovered boys in cars and her parents wished they’d just bought her the damned horse.
Vikki excelled in English, Art and Surliness and despite The Right-Brain beckoning she finished Year 12, coveted a black leather pair of cross-stitched cowboy boots in a shoe-shop window, and began her brain-numbing career as a bank teller. She wore her cowboy boots until the heels were worn to nubs.
In banking, Vikki learned life lessons and party tricks (to this day she can catch twenty-five coins by flicking them off her elbow) but after eight years the Right-Brain had had enough. Vikki studied part-time and earned her Diploma of Freelance Journalism, which sounded impressive but wasn’t. She started writing for country newspapers and a tourism magazine — stories, editorial, the odd obituary — and found that writing made her happy. Although her editorials were praised by clients, her editor was not happy. He sat her down to discuss the difference between fiction and reportage and she promptly took a position with a skin-care company as a communications officer.
Vikki fell in love with a state-of-the-art, blue Macintosh G4 and discovered that the only way to get close to one was to be a Graphic Designer. She read manuals until her eyes were crossed and bluffed her way into the position. Finally, The Right-Brain’s screaming subsided and her creativity blossomed (ooh, look at all the pretty colours), still she found herself messing with other people’s copy and edited the CEO’s letters so they weren’t so boring. Another little chat. Vikki started freelance work again and fell in love with a guy.
The Right-Brain continued to put its hand up in class, but it had come up against a formidable enemy — The First Baby. The years that followed were equal parts joy and despair as Baby Number Two battled The Firstborn for supremacy and Vikki learned to sleep standing up.
When The Zombie Years had passed, The Right Brain told her it was time she had an epiphany. She looked up the meaning of epiphany, discovered it was a manifestation of a god or demigod, and decided that seeing God would complicate things because she’d have to report it. And reportage wasn’t her thing. She wanted to make stuff up. She wanted to write… fiction. Haaaaa-le-lu-jah!
Vikki enrolled in an Advanced Diploma of Arts (Professional Writing) course and met a whole bunch of people who thought she had talent and encouraged her to break the rules. Vikki started writing her first book late at night when normal people were sleeping — but sleep was overrated and she’d learned to live without it. She wanted to write the kind of YA books that kept her up reading all night, books teenagers will leave on a park bench or bus seat for someone else to find — then she learned that an author’s cut is less than 15% so she’d rather everyone bought their own copy.
Vikki still can’t believe that she gets to make things up and call herself a writer. All I Ever Wanted is her first novel. There are more where that came from.
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