I’m Andy Fosterjohn.

My name is Andy Fosterjohn. I am a writer.

During a period of gradual recovery from a heavy bout with anxiety and depression, a fight in which there are no winners, I began to write. I had always written, but had never stood up at a group meeting, in a church hall, and said I am a writer, and will always be so. I may need to write first thing in the morning, or late at night, but I need to write.

I usually go with a side order of bi polarity for good measure, and even when overwhelmed by deep depression, I would always surface for a few moments each day, long enough to write a few lines about the bluetits in my garden, the woods on the hill behind my house, or the sky at dusk. I never saw dawn, as I always tried not to wake from my living hell, and would try and go back to sleep, till the house was empty, quiet as the gave, and safe.

I began to write in 2015-16: I wrote a series of cafe reviews, then football, and politics, plus a longer essay on childhood memories of going to football matches in Nottingham, published in the  magazine Bandy and Shinty.

2017: Film treatment story set in the bitter winter of 1695, about a wedding and a terrible journey from Shropshire to the Teifi Valley, in West Wales.

2017: I took two script writing courses at Cardiff University.

2017: A series of stories about a Valleys gangster Called Frank, and his rivals, women and troubles, and a script for a three day film making competition in Abergavenny, Wales.

2018: Most recently, I had a short play performed by Script-Dawg and Avanti Cymru in conjunction with Spectacle Theatre, in the Rhondda Valley, South Wales.

Currently Working on two writing projects, a novel about a road trip to Hadrian’s Wall by two older men, and a dramatization of the Merthyr Rising, the first time the Red Flag was flown in this country.


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