Name: Adderson Tyler Hawdon
Birthday: 3rd September 1992
Star sign: Virgo
Gender: Male [Why was this left blank?]
Yes, that awkward cuss in the photo to the left is me. My name is Adderson, I inherited that name from my great Grandfather Paul Adderson Loseby. It’s a strange name but I really like it, even when people don’t actually believe it’s my name or that they think I’m a girl. However, I’ve come to adore my name for one simple reason; that it makes me pretty much unforgettable (and that’s just not me blowing my own trumpet there) because, let’s face it; how many Addersons have you got running about in your life? Not many? I thought so.
Anyway, I was born in Kettering, Northamptonshire and lived there till I was about three. My parents divorced and my mum and I lived on our own for a little while before she met my step-father Pete. I found it weird at first but over the years, I’ve grown to care about Pete; I’m not about to lie about it. He’s a good guy even if we do get on each other’s last nerve; I think we both pretty much know that we’re on the same side and that we both care about each other. It’s just that we’re both guys and we can’t really show it very well. It’s a guy thing, I’m a bloke and I still struggle to understand it.
Well, I showed a passion for writing at a very early age; which was difficult, my handwriting was terrible and barely legible. So much so that even I struggled to read it sometimes; I think I was around five years old when I cracked out my first novel (or what I thought was a novel back then) and ran downstairs to my mother presenting it to her as a present. It was obvious from the beginning that I loved to write and had an active imagination; even at school I was too busy writing and telling stories rather then doing maths work. I am dyslexic and dyspraxic (and dammit gosh, it’s so hard to damn spell) so it was hard for me at first to express myself through writing. Especially poetry, I could never get poetry when I was younger but now it seems to be my dominant form. We are getting off track though so, let’s reign it back in.
Junior school was uneventful really, I got bullied a little for being taller then most; having more hair then most; just being more me then most. It was a weird time if I’m honest. Then Secondary School and puberty came and hit me a bit like a freight train. My first year was a bit of a blur. I was off a lot of the time with Glandular Fever. Nasty stuff, sweating like a good ‘un I was. Had the truancy office out once when I was burning up and he asked if I could make it to school; my mum went a little mad at him, could he not see that her little soldier was dying on his feet? Either way, when I did go into school I was quiet anyway, a little socially awkward if anything. The one time I think I was confident at any time during my first year was when I almost put a bully’s head through a car window. It was an odd time, year seven. Always is. The rest of school was kind of like that too really, I grew into myself a little more, got too big for my boots at some points and did stupid stuff like all kids do. Writing took a back seat for a while, I did it in the privacy of my own home but being one of four privacy may have been the wrong word. It was when I discovered drama that I discovered writing again. I’d been excluded from school a lot and no one really gave that much of a damn about me. It took a few good teachers to finally bring me back down to Earth and get me settled in again; I then channelled that new focus into Drama and into Ms. Hasan whom had all the time in the world for me. Then, as new teachers got introduced to the school like Drew Coles and Lee Towers; more and more people seemed to take notice of the special naughty boy in the corner, he wasn’t stupid. Just misunderstood. And they all helped a hell of a lot; they helped me see that there were places I wanted to go, things I wanted to do and even though they bore the brunt of it when i was in a mood or having the latest domestic with the latest girlfriend. eventually by the time I got to Year 11, I was writing as regular as clock work again…
I’m not going to lie; this had both positive and negative effects.
I was writing poetry on every scrap of paper I could, I was excelling at English literature because I actually wanted to read and well, yeah, I was just becoming a bit of an English boffin. Even in Sixth Form, when I finally became comfortable in my own skin I was still doing my writing thing. I even started a blog in my second year of Sixth Form on Blogger which is what this blog originates from. Mostly I wrote about my friends that I played XBOX LIVE with, they were good guys. Lads of the highest order and we spent hours in that weird online stasis of being together yet apart at the same time; it was a little weird but they were some of my biggest inspirations, as were others too.
The dream became a reality in September 2011, after a frantic panic as to whether or not I got into University. I got into my first choice, Sheffield Hallam to do the degree that seemed to be meant for me BA Creative Writing. I made some wicked discoveries as I moved up into Sheffield, I made new friends, learnt a lot of new things about writing and myself but the most fantastic discovery I think I made was the Sheffield Spoken Word Scene. Yes, that’s right, Spoken Word Scene. If I’d of said that back in Rushden, I’d be laughed at, in Sheffield it’s serious business, I began reading my poems out loud. Being appreciated. Being recognised. It was wicked. It was amazing and there’s still plenty of amazing times ahead.