No harm in dreaming of the big lucky break

The internet is a great place for random conversations; this week I connected with a fellow author on the issue of interviews.

She had just been asked if she had achieved her ambitions - and she joked online that no, as her ambitions at one stage involved a romance with Superman in the ice castle ala Lois Lane in the Superman movie.

I replied that I hadn’t quite managed yet to fulfil my childhood ambition of becoming best friends with Princess Leia and subsequently marrying her brother Luke Skywalker. (This ambition stems from the days before I realised Han Solo was the altogether more desirable catch).

It’s perfectly normal to have such creative childhood ambitions. My daughter (almost five) is convinced beyond reasonable doubt that she will marry Harry Styles - on Kinnego Bay, in a “big fancy tent” - one of these days.

In many ways I have fulfilled my other childhood ambitions. I work in an office (although I was pretty sure I would be a private detective and not a journalist when I was younger). I have two lovely children. I have my own (fairly battered but also fairly reliable) car and an array of fancy high heeled shoes which belong to no-one else but me.

I can also, generally speaking, buy a bar of chocolate any time I want and while I’ve never made it to Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory I have, on occasion, eaten far too many Dairy Milks.

But as I’ve grown older, I’ve accumulated a few new ambitions. To keep things lighthearted (so to avoid the healthy/ thin/ happy children ambitions that seem par for the course) these generally include the likes of having a cup of tea with Marian Keyes, a cocktail or ten with Sandra Bullock and writing a block-busting bestseller which is immediately scooped up by a major film company. Sandra Bullock can star as my female lead and for a leading man I think any array of male folk who have appeared as hunky doctors in Grey’s Anatomy.

It may be unrealistic - but it is nice to dream - and sometimes to dream big, to hold onto ambitions which may well be unlikely to happen - like becoming BFFs with Princess Leia or directing Dr McSteamy in your first big movie - can get you through many a long and cold January evening.

And perhaps maybe, some day, those dreams may just come true. Perhaps in 20 years from now, as I reflect on my glittering career, the Oscars in the cabinet and my popstar son-in-law, I’ll be able to say I achieved all I wanted.