If I could turn back time – I probably wouldn’t.

I have just been to Britain to catch up with friends and relatives. The trip involved a substantial amount of driving around , and inevitably took me back to my past, when I lived in England and Wales. I grew up in West Sussex and although I spent less than half my life there, it is the place where I have spent the most time. Sussex is beautiful, with its coastal towns, quaint villages, and the Southdown hills sheltering the county from the wild excesses of London and its sprawling suburbia. What’s not to love about it?

But in a literary sense, I find myself strangely unmoved by the landscape. As I drove around the other day, I passed several places of significant personal history; my first flat, the Church where I got married (far too young), the riding school where my friend Sarah taught me to ride, and a mile further down the road, the cemetery where she is buried, having died far too young from MS.

The memories I have of my youth are many and varied. It includes moments of passion and high drama, loss and sadness. The writer in me, however, has never seriously considered using Sussex as the setting in any of my writing. I left West Sussex at the age of 23 to move up to London, and that is where I feel my life really began. I loved living there. Every day when I strode down Oxford Street to get to my office in Soho I felt glad to be alive, and delighted to be in such an exciting place. I hardly ever looked back at my past and failed to appreciate what I had experienced.

My life has been one of constant upheaval and frequent heartbreak. But in between that I have had moments of absolute joy, and have made many great friends. During an evening spent catching up with someone close, I was asked the question – would I undo a significant event, if I could?

I thought about it for a while before replying. If I could have made an alternative decision many years ago, how different would my life be now? Doubtless I would have experienced less turmoil and stress, and probably saved myself from at least two divorces. I would probably be wealthier and still living somewhere in the South East of England. But would I be happier than I am now? I don’t think so.

I think my life was meant to be the way it was. For all of the ups and downs, there have been far more ups, especially over the last ten years. I think that is why my writing tends to focus on Shetland and Orkney. This is where my life turned around, and this is where I have been the happiest.

Despite my Irish heritage I don’t yet feel the same passion for Ireland that I have for the Northern Isles. When I drove off the ferry in Dublin I felt like I was embarking on another holiday, rather than returning home. I expect it will take more time to settle. I think I will know when this has happened – when I start daydreaming about a novel set in Ireland.

But it was interesting to think about all the what-ifs and just-supposing, and made me realise that I am very lucky that fate has brought me to where I am. I don’t think I would be embarking on this career if I had led a more ordinary life.