I have been masquerading under the name Tessa Barrie since I was 19. I was writing for the local rag and didn’t want my Mother to know the slightly risqué weekly snippets originated from my keyboard.
I brainstormed a pseudonym, with the help of some friends. Tessa, after my Springer Spaniel and the blatant misspelling of Barry. I was and still am openly Cococabana, since being blown away by Barry Manilow performing at Wembley, when he turned a solo performance in a full-on musical extravaganza.
I’ve written on a freelance basis for years, whilst holding down a proper job. I co-wrote a factual book as well as taking a creative writing break to write songs.
I kind of fell into blogging about eighteen years ago. Blowing my own trumpet about my own music, as well as waxing lyrical about other artists and bands.
These days, I blog about anything and everything I stumble across, I blog from the heart and where the world takes me. Life’s too short to be niche.
My life to date… and how I’ve survived it
At the start of our lives, we view the world through rose coloured glasses. As we grow older and start viewing life from our own perspective, we rebel.
I was traumatised from an early age by being forced to wear flamboyant hair accessories and rag curls, which made me slightly boss-eyed but, as soon as I mastered the art of speech, I had something to say about it.
My first rebellious hissy fit was about the clothes my mother was so intent on dressing me in. She battled long and hard to turn me into a girly girl, but it was to no end.
Whatever is instilled in us as children, we take with us into adulthood; the good and the bad. At various stages of our lives, they come back to haunt us. The subject I eyeball in my first attempt at a novel, Defining Moments.
My hair always remained the focus of arguments between my mother and me, long after she gave up lambasting my wardrobe and until the day she died. My hair now? It’s as straight as my genes intended.
I often remind myself I should focus on the now more, what has gone has gone, you can’t do anything to make them better or bring them back. But, there are some memories, good and bad, that never fade and when I write about them, it is important to me to serve them up coated in a little humour.
It’s only when I laugh