Robert David is a novelist of upmarket fiction and psychological suspense thrillers at the margin between reality and illusion that can be both surreal and unsettling.
He grew up in South Wales and thinks his love of language came from his father who read him Mathew Arnold poems as bedtime stories. I was two or three, so it was unusual, to say the least, but I can still remember the rhythm of the words and the images they created.
He worked in opencast coal mines before going into business to run his own companies. But I was always writing and, eventually, business was no longer enough so I gave it up. He now writes full time, working in a shed that looks due west over rolling countryside to where he was born. It's taken a while but, at least, I'm doing what I always wanted to do. It's taken a while.