Born in Cheltenham, Gloucestershire, and now living in West Sussex, Graham Minett spent almost 45 years working in secondary education, most recently as part of the headship team at The Angmering School, where he worked for 25 years. Latterly working in a part-time role for the school, he was able to develop his writing alongside teaching, and a new career in fiction-writing was born. After his first two novels were well received, a couple of years ago he said goodbye to education for good, and became a full-time novelist. We wondered just how terrifying that might have been…

“Writing was something I’d wanted to do all my life, but other important considerations – relationships, raising a family, work, sport – got in the way. Then, in 2006, I decided to do a two-year part-time MA in Creative Writing at The University of Chichester.

“It was an expensive decision. I also had no guarantees that even gaining the MA would enable me to find an agent and a publisher for my work because, good as the course is, the number who make the breakthrough remains a relatively small percentage. I felt from very early on, however, that it was just what I needed.

“Being a mature student was an issue only for me. No one else was bothered by it – in fact, there were a few people on the course who were either the same age as I was, or not much younger, although most were in their twenties or thirties. I’d say it took me a few weeks to adjust and feel totally at home but there was never any suggestion from anyone that my age was necessarily a factor.

[perfectpullquote align=”left” bordertop=”false” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]”I found myself with an opening chapter that was clearly very effective, but no idea what the rest of the storyline might be!”[/perfectpullquote]

“After the course, I won a national competition for opening chapters of a novel with a piece I’d created as part of my MA for one of the assessed modules. The first prize, apart from a cash award, was a chance to work online with an editor in London to finish the novel – which is what would eventually become my debut novel, The Hidden Legacy.

So how did that become a book?

“I found myself with an opening chapter that was clearly very effective, but I had no idea what the rest of the storyline might be! I also had a strong female lead character in mind but the opening chapter was very much 1960s, whereas Ellen belonged quite clearly to the first decade of this century.

“The first task, therefore, was to come up with two storylines and a complex plot that would bring them both together. To do this I used a board, Post-its, postcards and drawing pins and mapped the whole thing out before I wrote another word. I knew not only exactly how many scenes there would be but also what each scene would do to move the action forward and also what it would reveal of Ellen’s character.

“When it was finished to the editor’s satisfaction, I sent the completed novel to an agent, along with a letter detailing the fact that I had done the MA and also won a national competition with the same opening chapter I was now sending to him. He phoned me as soon as he’d finished reading it and asked me to go to Oxford to discuss it with him. He had a contract there waiting for me, and I signed it before I left.

“He then recommended it to Mark Smith, head of UK fiction at Bonnier in Marylebone, who gave me a two-book deal, which has now been extended to two further books. The first two, The Hidden Legacy and Lie In Wait, have both been published in eBook and paperback format and sold far better than was expected from a debut author, both reaching a high Amazon ranking and earning ‘book of the month’ deals.

[perfectpullquote align=”left” bordertop=”false” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]”I still have to pinch myself when I see my books in airports and railway stations and in bookshops in town”[/perfectpullquote]

“The whole experience has been every bit as exciting as you might imagine. I still have to pinch myself at times when I see my books in airports and railway stations and in bookshops in town. I haven’t yet seen someone on a beach or on a train reading a copy of it but I’m looking forward to that moment when it comes.

“I’ve recently completed book four. I have no idea what the books will be about, but my storylines always start with a character. I always try to write the kind of novels I enjoy reading; something that treats the readers with a bit of intelligence, allowing them to work things through without spelling everything out and providing a central mystery that has layers that need to be peeled away.

“I just want to keep on writing, build up as big a loyal following as possible, maybe see one of my novels optioned for TV and sell a few foreign rights. Aside from that, if I could meet Maggie O’Farrell and Kate Atkinson and spend an evening talking to them about writing, that would be about as good as it gets.”

New Tricks
Graham’s top tips for starting something new

• Don’t let age be a barrier in any way. Most people are happy to judge you on what you do. More often than not ageism is in your own head rather than everyone else’s.
• Don’t allow the ‘older you’ to make you too cautious. Obviously use what you’ve learnt over the years but try to stay in touch with the 25-year-old ‘you’ who wasn’t afraid to take a risk or two.
• Whatever you move on to, make use of the massive network you’ve built up over the years. Social media is one thing I always swore I’d never go near but my publishers were right to insist that I get onto Twitter and Facebook and use both of them.

Find books by Graham Minett here

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Backpacking in your 50s? Just how much fun can this be? The fun starts at Victoria Coach Station, a place struggling to maintain composure in the face of human chaos. Gormless people with limited spatial awareness mill around in search of meaning. Staff are thin on the ground and announcements are garbled.

I’m truly puzzled how a hub of such confusion manages to operate with any level of efficiency. Ten million people pass through this greasy garage every year, apparently. Most of them are here tonight.

I’m not against slumming it if there’s luxury at the other end

The Spaniard and I are on our way to Amsterdam, student style. We would have flown like normal people, but the cost of last minute tickets is ridiculous, and the Eurostar route even more insulting. From just £35 one way, comes the claim, which is no doubt true in some cases, but completely unrealistic if you’re feeling spontaneous. So, it’s the bus for us – low brow but low price – and the glamour starts here.

We’re taking the rough with the smooth

What we save on getting there can be splurged on food, hotels and canal-side cheer. I’m not against slumming it if there’s luxury at the other end, although the Spaniard seems less convinced. I try to appease him with a Pret a Manger baguette (crumby, in both senses of the word) and a couple of sleeping pills I’ve gleaned from my dad. Who needs leg room when you’ve got that kind of meal deal? I also buy a bottle of Malbec from the Sainsbury’s across the road, which we drink in clandestine gulps at a table outside Starbucks. Jealous?

It makes Luton Airport look like The Ned. The arrivals hall is heaving with budget-wary migrants, attempting, perhaps, a last-gasp attempt at freedom of movement

Looking around this oily cathedral, there are pigeons scratching about in dirty puddles, hollow-cheeked boys cadging cigarettes, and an air of ennui you wouldn’t naturally gravitate towards. It makes Luton Airport look like The Ned. The arrivals hall is heaving with budget-wary migrants, attempting, perhaps, a last-chance stab at freedom of movement. There’s none of that here. It’s nose to nipple in the backpack area, brilliantly illustrated by beleaguered-looking students doing the traveler’s tango; swerving and crashing into one another like drunken sleeping bags. Death by billycan looks like a distinct possibility.

We’ve got a twelve hour stretch in front of us but feel #blessed. I have Zopoclone in my pocket, a cashmere blanket in the rucksack, and I’m off to Amsterdam for goodness sake!

At 8pm we are primed for embarkation

There is no-one manning the office; just a dirty, shuttered window, so we presume check-in will happen on the coach. The driver looks normal, if a little vacant around the eyes, scanning my phone and taking our cases in a transaction taking less than five seconds. There is no security here, and you’re welcome to stick a coffin in the hold should you feel the urge.

The driver looks normal, if a little vacant around the eyes. There is no security here, and you’re welcome to stick a coffin in the hold

Of course, we’re at the very end of the queue, so the chance of being split up looms large. As is the way, every double seat is taken by just one person, all staring selfishly out of the window in the hope they don’t get chosen. There should be a rule about single travelers. Will I have to WhatsApp the Spaniard for conversation all night? Endure the stale breath of a sleeping stranger? I feel like shouting these thoughts out loud, but realise it will not ingratiate me to my fellow passengers. After all, I’m going to be spending quite some time in their dishonourable company.

Even better if you’re over 60!

Ultimately, we are forced onto the back seat – schoolboys’ favourite the world over. This might be construed as a result, but there is a large African lady taking up four of the six spaces, mostly with bags of indiscriminate wares. I must say, she seems lovely, but I do hope she’s not going to talk all night.

Chatting loudly on FaceTime, the woman eventually bids goodnight to a daughter in Lagos and looks ready to hit the hay. Me? I’m squashed into the far right-hand corner of the coach like an anchovy in a can. It’s either the safest or most dangerous spot to be. At this juncture I really don’t care.

There’s a clearly ‘refreshed’ English guy; pin-eyed and loud of opinion, who thinks he’s flattering the elderly Jamaican man by saying things like, ‘black don’t crack’ and ‘One Love’ in cod patois

It’s quite a cast of characters down here, a Channel 5 reality show come to life. There’s a clearly ‘refreshed’ English guy; pin-eyed and loud of opinion, who thinks he’s flattering the elderly Jamaican man in the seat behind him by saying things like, ‘black don’t crack’ and ‘One Love’ in cod patois. He also keeps declaring that Tottenham Court Road is in north London. Nobody can be bothered disputing his stupidity.

Opposite sits a girl we nickname ‘Yentl’, her hair pulled up into a felt baker boy’s cap, which she peers under like a shy Victorian stowaway. Then there are the ‘Benelux Girls’ – virtual triplets wearing purple turtlenecks and retro glasses, who all look like Thelma from Scooby Doo and put me in mind of a particular Smiths’ lyric. I consider ‘writing frightening verse to a buck-toothed girl from Luxembourg’ just to pass the time, but soon think better of it.

And then we’re off, onto the mean streets of Belgravia, past the sort of high-end antique shops and mahogany pubs you only see in this part of town.

Read more: Have you ever taken a holiday alone? How to travel solo

We’re headed for Dover and beyond

But an hour later are still crawling through the arteries of south east London. Lewisham looks less than lovely at this time of night, and there’s a reason the Old Kent Road is the cheapest street in Monopoly. I slip into a sort of chemical-induced anaesthesia and wake up in Kent. Vera Lynn sang about bluebirds and white cliffs. I can see a Costa and a Burger King.

Disembarking for the ferry – ‘The Pride of Burgundy’ – we snake through English and French passport control and make our way upstairs. The boat is swarming with Euro-teens, a tidal wave of pimples and inappropriate noise. I’ve never seen so many brace-lined teeth, and the bar is doing a brisk trade in Red Bull and Pringles.

It’s like a JD Sports outlet warehouse in here. Elsewhere, old men recline on plastic sofas, taking up precious space, while their wives struggle with Suduko. I like people-watching as much as the next person, but at 1.30 in the morning I’d rather not see anybody.

England fades away, as do the Absinthe-green lights of Calais. For a moment it feels quite romantic. Then I trip over a bottle of Fanta.

Tottenham Court Road is wondering about gurning, burping and attempting to start a conversation with anyone who will have him. Out of nowhere, Isn’t She Lovely? by Stevie Wonder announces itself from the speaker. It’s the second time I’ve heard it in as many days, but that’s the least weird thing going on at the moment.

Out on Deck 9 there’s a smoking area of sorts. If you can stand the wind and marauding French kids, you can see England fade away and the Absinthe-green lights of Calais in the distance. For a moment it feels quite romantic. Then I trip over a bottle of Fanta.

Back on the coach and our motley crew are starting to get their heads down. Even matey has stopped talking his Becks-fuelled nonsense. It’s time to pop another Zop and doze my way past Dunkirk, through Belgium, and onto the flat plains of the Netherlands.

By the time we’ve reached The Hague it’s all a bit vague

Eventually, and not before time, we arrive on the outskirts of Amsterdam at 7am, emerging into brilliant, Disney-esque sunshine. As we reach the city centre it all suddenly seems worth the effort. What a magical place Amsterdam is. Brimming with curious cliches – bikes, bridges, and bleary-eyed Brummies – but possessing a unique charm everyone should encounter at least once in their lives.

We drop in for breakfast at Hotel V Nesplein, a wonderfully discreet bolt-hole with a womb-like dining room, serving goat’s cheese with scrambled eggs and fig jam. It’s not a combo I’d normally plump for. But far more edifying than the muffin bought in haste from a Belgian service station. At surrounding tables, smart couples lean into each other, whispering sweet nothings. Astrid Gilberto chirrups in the background and civilisation emerges in caffeine-sharp focus.

Our first hotel, The Exchange, is worryingly close to the tourist bottleneck spewing out of Central Station. It’s not exactly the most desirable part of the city and stands on a faceless street that borders the seamy red light district. But appearances are deceptive and, once inside, my sinking heart is revived by a compact but cool interior, and staff so cheery and normal the last 12 hours are soon forgotten.

The Exchange bills itself as a ‘fashion’ hotel but don’t let that put you off. Each room has been designed by a local creative student, and the results, if not couture, are better than hand-made. Plus we’ve got a tiny smoking terrace overlooking the imposing former Stock Exchange, brutalist murals on the wall, and the softest bed this side of Slumberland. Fantastisch.

…‘the colours are amazing’, as I keep saying to no-one in particular, watching a scratchy video of an African witch doctor completely off his nut

After ham, cheese and hagelslag (chocolate sprinkles on toast – you’ve got to love the Dutch) we are soon out and about and demanding high jinx. A quick ‘coffee’ in Kadinsky, one of the city’s many coffee shops is perhaps a foolish start, but the brew tastes good and ‘the colours are amazing’, as I keep saying to no-one in particular, watching a scratchy video of an African witch doctor completely off his nut.

I repeat the same line as I gaze at a solemn-looking prostitute sitting in a pink neon window, and again, admiring the tulips gracing cafe tables. I’m not sure what they put in the coffee here but it’s doing wonders for my spectral palette.

‘Somebody’ (always) fancies a burger for lunch

But I’ve booked a table at The Dylan, purportedly one of the chicest hotels in Amsterdam, and anticipate something far more inventive. Occo is the hotel’s uber-stylish brasserie, and on this unseasonably sunny day we are led into a discreet, handsome courtyard and plied with roast chicken, creme brûlée and silky, expensive wine. My appetite is on red alert, the food is amazing, and all would be good with the world if my feet didn’t hurt quite as much as they do.

The Spaniard thinks I have a toxic relationship with my boots. He says they are like an ex-boyfriend I can’t forget, but doesn’t understand that they are Blundstones, my ultimate footwear, and that they will last FOREVER.

The fact they are rubbing my instep with all the ferocity of a grant pumice stone is by the by. As is the fact the veins in my feet resemble strips of pappardelle. Despite being crushed to death by Tasmanian leather, I still love them, and hobble on like a martyr to pain.

The architectural style has been dubbed ‘New Objectivity’, which sounds like a band signed to Factory Records

We take the free ferry over to North Amsterdam, a gentrified district where new territory and an intriguing proposition lies head. The city has many great hotels but there is nothing more inventive than Sweets, a series of completely individual suites dotted around the city, fashioned from former bridge control buildings.

Pre-computers, all the bridges on the main canals were operated by workers housed in these cubic dens. They pulled levers and pressed buttons, took tea and ate bitterballen. But 21st century technology rendered these lookouts redundant and for years they stood empty. Now, with remarkable ingenuity they have come back to life as 28 extraordinary rooms. To say they are unique would be to do them a disservice. Some are on busy intersections, other lie close to lakes. If you like architecture and nature and can plug into the joys of retro futurism, Sweets will certainly enhance the flavour of your stay.

We are in Room 101 (a bad omen?) – Gerben Wagenaarbrug – a simple brick building built in 1965 on the edge of a drawbridge that rises above the Kraaienplein canal like a Bang & Olufsen speaker. It looks like a watch tower, but there is no noticeable military presence, just superlative design touches and a vivid imagination. The architectural style has been dubbed ‘New Objectivity’, which sounds like a band signed to Factory Records.

No surprise then that this former place of work now resembles The Hacienda on a spending spree at the Conran Shop. If Ben Kelly did domestic interiors, this is what they would look like, fixtures and fittings in perfect harmony with the modernist lines and original control panels which take up space in the bedroom, The view over the canal is a sight to behold, but I wonder what the folks walking down its path think of the two men in the tower, bouncing on the bed like they’d never seen a mattress?

It doesn’t look much at first

But Amsterdam Noord is a former working-class area that’s become home to cable knit students and groomed yummy mummies; think Peckham with fewer weave shops and more omelettes. Further out on the waterfront, where the old shipyards once converged, lies the NEMO Museum, a futuristic edifice that shimmers in the distance like a verdigris sperm whale. Add to this the linear beauty of the EYE Film Institute, plus the Spielbergian A*Dam Tower, and the view is never less than arresting. Modern life can sometimes be rubbish, but the skyline here is far from disposable.

Amsterdam Noord is a former working-class area that’s become home to cable knit students and groomed yummy mummies; think Peckham with fewer weave shops and more omelettes

After a local pizza, much needed contrast is sought. Tonight is all about drinks at the Hotel Pulitzer, which lies back across the water in the lively Nine Streets neighbourhood. A little bird (well, a PR) tells me they do the best cocktails in town so it seems rude not to heed her advice. The bar is a masterclass in lighting, a Georgian, wood-panelled room gracefully converging with an Art Deco bar. The drinks are hefty, along with the prices, but this is a welcoming retreat from the head shops and head cases that often blight the city.

Back in the watch tower, simplicity has become confusing. With only one room per floor I spend a drunken 10 minutes forgetting where the bathroom is. If you like polished concrete and the photography of Ed Van Der Elk, you’re on to a winner. Lovers of en-suite need not apply. I’m completely enamoured with this beguiling installation. Not sure I could spend a huge amount of time here, but for a weekend of quirks and lols it’s got all the bells and whistles your inner hipster could desire.

And what of the journey back? The truth is, I can’t remember any of it and swear I sleep the whole way home. Even the table on the ferry feels like a goose down pillow. I wake up in Victoria virtually teleported. Damn, those were good drugs. Please dad, can I have some more?

Eurolines: London to Amsterdam from 24€ one way. eurolines.eu.
Hotel V Nesplein: www.hotelvnesplein.nl
The Exchange: www.exchangeamsterdam.com
Sweets: www.sweetshotel.amsterdam
The Dylan: www.dylanamsterdam.com
The Pulitzer: www.pulitzeramsterdam.com

Paul Tierney

Paul Tierney is a journalist and editor who writes about arts, culture and travel for some of the world’s best regarded publications. He contributes to the Independent, the I, the Evening Standard, Upstate Diary and Neue Luxury. Paul is also the Editor at Large of bi-annual style magazine Ponystep.

The post Backpacking to Amsterdam in your 50s – insanity, or genius? appeared first on Silver Magazine.

Contrary to previous viewpoints, these days, age and experience is becoming more widely recognized as an advantage when starting a new enterprise. I started my first business at the age of 47 and have spent the last 15 years helping would-be entrepreneurs to start theirs.

The UK is experiencing a boom in self-employment with more and more of us choosing to be our own boss. While the mainstream US media focuses on stories about tech entrepreneurs founding million dollar startups before 25, in the UK, most self-employed workers have more years and experience under their belts. According to the Office of National Statistics, the average age of the self-employed worker is rising – currently it’s 41.

“Older entrepreneurs have a massive advantage over their younger, more energetic colleagues”

There are plenty of reasons for the rise in self-employment among older people; whether it’s a decision to seek a better work-life balance, staying busy during retirement, being made redundant, or even achieving a long-held dream. But when it comes to starting a business, older entrepreneurs have a massive advantage over their younger, more energetic colleagues.

We have the benefit of maturity and wisdom. We’ve already figured out who we are and have our own personal code of conduct. We’ve gained years of experience in how to handle tricky situations and how to behave in an ethical way. And we can integrate this into our businesses right from the start.

My focus is working with aspiring entrepreneurs – helping them make the leap from employee to businessperson. Here are my tips for older workers thinking of entering self-employment for the first time.

1 Look in the mirror
Workers who are leaving big institutions – public, private or voluntary – are often institutionalised. Often, they’ve been sheltered and protected from the full range of commercial realities. Most are experts in their own particular field, but they don’t yet have the broad skillset needed to run their own business.

Your first step should be to create an inventory of your skills, behaviors, strengths and weaknesses. For example, if you’re naturally an introvert, throwing yourself into networking will be a baptism of fire. Armed with this self-knowledge, you can identify where you’ll need extra help.

2 Don’t go it alone
If you’ve spent your career employed in large organisations, starting your own business will be a seismic change. If you are starting up following redundancy, this will be an emotionally charged time. Depending on the circumstances, you could be feeling anything from fear and depression to elation. Not the ideal frames of mind for making commercial decisions.

While your partner or spouse can offer emotional support, they may not be best placed to advise you on business matters. A mentor can help you combat the loneliness of transitioning from a big organisation to a one-person startup. They will act as a sounding board and help you ascertain whether your business idea has legs.

3 Surround yourself with quality
Think ‘quality first’ when appointing anyone to work on or in your business, be it as employee or external service provider. Going for a cheap fix could prove to be your Achilles Heel. I recently surveyed attendees at one of my seminars, posing the question: “What’s the biggest business lesson you’ve learned?” One participant answered: “Don’t source your web designer by just searching on Google.”

4 Show some humility
If you’re starting afresh in an entirely new work direction, do your homework first. Read the industry press and above all, make sure you talk to plenty of people working within the new sector. Be aware of the pitfalls before you even start, so that you launch with ‘eyes wide open’ as opposed to ‘eyes wide shut’.

I once met a high flyer who wanted to open a guest house in Cornwall after leaving his current position. His experience of this particular sector of the hospitality industry was “I stayed in a guest house once.” I’ve haven’t a clue whether his new venture was a success but a total lack of experience in your newly chosen field isn’t generally the best foot forward!

5 Polish your personal brand
Having your own personal brand is a must have in today’s fast-moving, hyper-connected world. Before you even start posting on LinkedIn and Twitter, make sure you’re crystal clear on three things: who you are, what you do and what you stand for. Then make sure all your posts reflect this.

Failure to do this can create contradictory messages which will confuse potential customers. Confused customers take their business elsewhere.

6 Know your numbers
Invest time in making sure you completely understand the financial drivers of your business. Do you understand how to calculate margins and break even or how to assess your liquidity?

7 Make your business plan short and to the point
A long, complex business plan is destined only to gather dust on your bookshelf. While it’s important to outline where you’re going and how you’re going to get there, simplicity is key.

I recommend writing a simple plan covering four elements – objectives, goals, strategies and measures. Here’s a very simple example for a business selling t-shirts to football fans:

• Objective: to be the number one supplier of t-shirts to football clubs.
• Goal: to be exceeding £1 million turnover within 3 years.
• Strategy: to build trusted relationships with official fan clubs of football teams.
• Measures: month-on-month growth of fan clubs signed up and shirts sold.

Measures like this will help you to determine if the business is moving in the right direction.

8 Nurture your network
People buy from people before they buy from a brand. Face-to-face networking, combined with an online presence, can be a powerful source of business leads.

You can’t rush networking. Build your relationships first so people are comfortable in your presence. Only after that will fellow networkers be comfortable seeking your help, or recommending you to others. Go too fast or salesy, and you could create a push-back effect.

(If you remember one thing about networking, it’s this: be interested, not interesting. Be curious about what people do and they will respond. And always let them speak first.)

9 You have two ears, one mouth
Some of the quietest people I know are actually the ones who are the best at asking the right questions, which will lead eventually to a sale or a referral. It’s important to work on your communication skills, but the number one skill that people need to work on is usually how to listen.

10 You’re never too old to stop learning
Even old(er) dogs love learning new tricks! Don’t stop investing in your personal development. I still pay to go on training events at the age of 63. Your brain wants to keep learning – keep it active!

David Mellor has spent 15 years helping new business owners. His goal in 2017 is to grow a free networking group for older entrepreneurs. David has written three books on transitioning from employee to entrepreneur: From Crew to Captain: From Crew to Captain: Commander of the Fleet and From Crew to Captain: A Privateer’s Tale.

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The post 10 tips for second life entrepreneurs appeared first on Silver Magazine.