“I left school at sixteen with a head full of rocks, a general dislike towards anyone telling me what to do and a belief none of it mattered: because one day I would write the greatest book in the world,” writes Craig Stone.
Stone, like most writers, dreamed of writing the next great anthology. And Stone, like most writers, was pretty poor as he waited to do that.
He found himself working in a normal job, in a normal flat until one day his rent increased. Unable to secure the monthly payments, Stone became homeless and lived in a park with a notepad and pen.
There he finally wrote what he believed to be the greatest book in the world.
Stone has taken to Twitter to explain how easily his homelessness occurred.
1/ I'm going to tell a story about how I went from living in a park with a fat beard, to being an author. Here goes…
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
2/ I was working in the city. I was about to hit 30, depressed (I know, what writer isn’t?), single, skint and a tiny bit heartbroken.
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
3/ I moved into a studio flat in Kilburn to escape humans. My Landlord, however, was old, followed me, and wanted to be best friends.
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
4/ He was also a racist bastard – but that’s another story.
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
5/ One of the blue, he put my rent up. I couldn’t afford it. I asked work for a small pay rise, you know, my first one in 4 years.
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
6/ They said no. I asked the council for help, they said talk to my landlord. My landlord said talk to the council. Bastards.
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
7/ I had always harboured a deep delusion that I was destined to become a great writer. So decided to be bold.
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
8/ STUPID. I MEAN STUPID. OR DEPRESSED. (IT’S HARD TO TELL WHICH).
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
9/ I walked out on my job and flat and moved into the local park. I took a pad and a pen. A sleeping bag. A jumper. A bag of coins.
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
10/ I lived in Gladstone Park North London (Willesden Green). To take my mind off the depressing reality that I had failed life, I wrote.
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
11/ Living in the park was OK. It had a toilet. It was middle-class. The ducks were polished (too white – their beaks bright orange).
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
12/ At night I would walk to the corner of the park, and stare up at the homes and wonder how people got so lucky that they lived in one.
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
13/ After a period of cold mornings, being ignored, fearing teenagers and washing naked in the park after midnight – my book was finished
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
15/ Some dark story about a homeless man who lives in a park and is accused of eating the ducks, squirrels and a dog. All very meta.
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
16/ ANXIETY: Your book is going to get wet, or lost, or burned. Kids will eat it. ME: My existence is now this book. I need a computer.
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
17/ I called my sister and asked for help. I lived in a small room in Greenhithe on borrowed time. I typed and released to Kindle.
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
18/ I sat in Dartford job centre, refreshing the Amazon page waiting for reviews. Maybe if I got enough reviews, I could get a book deal.
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
19/ WHAT A DREAMER. WHAT A FOOL. HEY, BOB, I’VE FOUND YOUR FUCKNUT.
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
20/ The Amazon reviews appeared. Lots of them. No literary agent would read it. What genre is it? What’s it about? They didn’t…
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
21/ …understand.
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
22/ But, a girl had read the book. She tweeted me, thinking I was some big shot author. Who was I to break the illusion?
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
23/ Long story short: I dated that girl. I moved in with that girl. I married that girl. I recently had a baby with that girl.
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
24/ I now live in a flat that has a balcony that looks down on a park. And I have a cupboard; so don’t have to hide my clothes in a bush.
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
25/ My second book found a literary agent and was shortlisted for the Dundee International Book Prize.
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
26/ So the moral of the story is dead ends can become ways out. And sometimes you have to sit in the wrong place, to see the right view.
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
27/ REMEMBER: In another life it could just as easily be you, looking up at a warm home from the cold park.
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
28/ So please spare a thought for the homeless this Christmas. It's OK to look people in the eye. It's OK to give people some of your time.
— craig stone (@craigstone_) November 24, 2016
Stone’s second book, Life Knocks was shortlisted for the Dundee International Book Prize. He now works with a creative agency in London.