Circle back to 2012.
I was 18 and just about to get spat out of Sixth Form College (which is the tier between secondary school and university).
Instead of feeling a rush of excitement, I felt terrified.
Why?
I didn't know what the hell I wanted to do with my life.
Being an author or a writer wasn't even a twinkle in my eye then. I just knew I didn't want to be punching a timesheet, working in a cubicle under obnoxiously bright LED lights, with a boss who enjoyed ruling his employees with an iron fist to compensate for his small manhood.
I already had a taste of that.
No thank you!
But at the same time, time was ticking. Decisions had to be made, and preparations needed to begin for the coming term, or else I'd be forced to take the dreaded gap year to "find myself."
So I did some digging.
"What do I enjoy?" said a young Watson.
Then, as if someone had pressed the TV remote, a mental slideshow of wild animals, conservation, and Steve Irwin (RIP) flashed before my eyes.
My heart pumped.
I started seeing myself in khaki shorts and a T-shirt, inhaling the African savannah's air, practically tasting the elephant dung that clung to it.
Then reality slapped me around the chops.
To pursue wildlife or zoology, I needed a degree. And in order to get that degree, I had to score Bs or higher in Science at the GCSE level, which I failed abysmally.
(Curse you, Bunsen burners!)
But it wasn't all doom and CO2.
During my research, I discovered this other thing called marine biology — basically zoology, but in the oceans — but the main difference was you learned, earned, and worked towards your certification whilst on the job.
I recall opening this one brochure for a programme in Mexico and being instantly blown away by the beautiful blue reefs and fish that adorned its cover.
And yes, I did think the diving suits looked badass.
The placement itself required students to pay the first year of the course and their flights — everything else they handled: scuba gear, lodging, first-year exams, the lot.
It truly was a stellar deal.
So, what did I do?
In all my eighteen years of accrued wisdom, I spent the next week puffing out my chest and telling everybody about how I'm going to be this amazing marine biologist.
🤢🤢🤢
And like the dedicated young man I was back then, I settled on a part-time job and an accounting course at uni instead.
There were also some issues happening back at home since my folks separated. Something about leaving my sister and mum behind during that period also didn't sit right with me.
Do I regret my decision not to pursue it?
Not really. I've never been a fan of regrets. They don't taste good on my salad.
But that doesn't mean there aren't times (like now) that I wonder where I'd be – what life might look like – if I had booked a one-way flight to Mexico.
Perhaps I'd have thousands of dives under my belt.
Maybe a bull shark would have chomped off my leg.
Heck, perhaps I might have had my own segment on Animal Planet.
Who knows.
But I also wouldn't have bagged myself Lady Laura or had my two rambunctious sons, one of whom turned one on Saturday.
Nor would I be publishing my rogue imaginations or writing these emails to you right now.
But the books that really got me serious about writing weren't The Divided Region.
It was The Curse of Abbey Ruins.
I'll admit, it's not my sharpest writing, but if you look closely, you can see the beginnings of an imaginative mind taking shape.
Or maybe you'll just find a load of toot.
In which case, you have 60 days to ask for your coin back.
You can get the ebook here:
https://djjwatsonstore.com/products/COAR
DJJW