Fiona Ballard – Co-Author, Wafting Earthy

Fiona Ballard grew up in Hampshire and Malaya. She successfully combined motherhood with an NHS career spanning twenty five years. Fiona’s life experiences have contributed hugely to the depth and substance of her writing. Her creative writing journey began with a gift of an entry fee to enter a story writing competition.

To date she has written ten short stories and one novel, a complete mixture of Adult and Young Adult fiction. Married now for nearly forty years she has two grown up married sons and one delightful grandchild. Fiona belongs to a local Writers Hub which offers an eclectic mix of authors, courses, blogs, and opportunities for reviews. In between writing stories Fiona enjoys travelling, swimming, international cookery and dog walking.

We asked Fiona a few questions to get to know her better. Here’s what she had to say:


I have been writing since… 


My favorite author(s) and book(s)? 

Louise Candlish / The Other Passenger,John Boyne / The Heart’s Invisible Furies / Patrick Gale, A Place Called Winter

My journey as a writer: 

My creative writing journey began when I retired from a career in the health service. I was bought an entry fee to a competition as a Christmas gift. From that moment I knew my writing career would become my new world . The last fifteen months has been especially difficult for many people around the world and so writing and reading stories has become far more relevant.

Why should we read you?

My first foray into creative writing has lead me on such a fascinating journey that readers will want to follow my characters to the last page.

My favorite genre to read / write 

Mystery/Drama/ Children’s Fiction


What advise would you give young and aspiring writers? 

Believe in yourself and get your feedback from a variety of sources

Here’s an except from Fiona’s winning story Cotton Candy that’s now published in Wafting Earthy

The view from the window stretched out far across the Arabian Sea proudly displaying its Dhow sailing ships that had zig zagged their trading routes for centuries. Muscat was at its hottest, with temperatures soaring. Regrettably the safe secure world of two little brothers was about to end catapulting them into a vortex of life changes overnight. With the disappearance of their parents, Rashid, barely six years old and Malik four, had been far too small to fully comprehend the adult complications involved.

Malik had clung to a hazy childlike recollection about that fateful day, years later he found it buried deep down in his subconscious. He recalled being ushered into an overly hot room at home by Aunt Onecia and Uncle Tariq. Strangely on the day in question, there had been no air conditioning running, as that had always been his special job to turn it on. Every morning his Father would ask him to go and press the big green “on” button. If Mum and Dad had been at home that day, the air con would have been on its highest setting from dawn. But oddly it was turned off.

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