My own creative journey began at the age of four, playing in a friend’s garage which had magically metamorphosed into a spaceship. Several old car parts were utilised as the navigational console or the alien detector. Plastic toy guns became laser cannons with which we would fend off otherworldly invaders. The garage’s mottled opaque windows were the viewing screen through which we would view the wonders of the universe: spaceships, planets, stars and asteroids.

My reading fare aged six to nine was Marvel and DC comics. The bright colourful images and simple dialogue was easy for my young mind to digest. We would run around the back streets of our terraced houses playing the superheroes we loved. With my Superman cape blowing in the wind – an old towel around my shoulders – I would fight supervillains and aliens. It was evident, even then, that I possessed a vivid imagination. Long before the dawn of Star Trek, and many decades before the advent of the Marvel and DC film universes.

As a teenager, I began reading science fiction novels: Frank Herbert’s Dune series, E. E. Doc Smith’s Lensman books, Asimov and Clarke, Heinlein and Philip K Dick. On television I loved Dr Who, Lost in Space, Battlestar Galactica, Star Trek, to name but a few. My parents would accuse me of having my head in the clouds. And they were absolutely right.

Later, as a young man in the 1980’s, my first wife introduced me to dance and the sensual writhings of Hot Gossip. I took classes with her and eventually we started our own dance group incorporating mime and robotic dancing long before it ever gained any popularity in the mainstream. This futuristic dance style attracted the attention of a band who initially wanted me to play the part of a robot on stage.

Gradually, I began to augment my dancing within the band by playing basic keyboard parts on a cheap synthesiser, a role which expanded still further until I was writing, performing and recording my own songs with a more sophisticated instrumental set up. About the same time I ran a live music venue, worked on regional radio featuring local bands and contributed to a magazine, writing reviews and interviews of local musicians.

It was as though someone had dropped a match into a box of fireworks. My creativity exploded, becoming both frenetic and compulsive. There were not enough hours in each day to feed my many artistic endeavours. One day I’d be writing a song; the next day doing a radio program; then conducting an interview or writing an article; and then playing a gig with one of my three bands. And all while working full time. My passion was both a gift and a curse.

Everything I attempted was restricted by my many associates, often at the whim of their apathy and indifference. My single-mindedness and feverish enthusiasm was rarely equalled or reciprocated and so I ploughed a lonely, frustrated furrow. On reflection, many years later, I realised my expectations were both unreasonable and exasperating to my collaborators.

Then one fateful day in 1982 everything changed.

In the latter part of 1982, I was employed at a hotel working split shifts, early mornings and evenings with afternoons off. There wasn’t much to do in the dark, wet winter afternoons other than the occasional trip to the cinema.

Star Wars had come out in 1977 and wowed the world, followed by The Empire Strikes Back.

Star Trek had aired with The Motion Picture and then the superb, The Wrath of Khan.

We believed a man could fly with Christopher Reeve’s stunning Superman.

Ridly Scott’s Alien had shocked audiences but it was his next film, the atmospheric, low key, film noir, Bladerunner, that I went to see on that fateful damp, frigid afternoon.

I left a dismal December day outside the cinema entrance and when I emerged a couple of hours later, the day hadn’t changed, but I had.

I guess people would say I experienced an epiphany. The stark dystopian beauty of Bladerunner had invaded the very core of my being, taking up residence in my head like a squatter and resolutely refusing to leave.

When the video eventually became available, I bought it and played it endlessly, learning the dialogue and transcribing David Peoples’ and Hampton Francher’s inspired screenplay on an A4 pad. There was no internet back then, so I had no choice but to engage in the protracted process of playing and pausing the video, learning the lines. Gradually, I began to have my own ideas about a possible sequel and started writing scenes, creating my own original plot.

I guess I was infatuated by the Bladerunner world and never tired of watching the film and hearing the wonderful lines of dialogue.

“I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe.”

Seven years after that fateful afternoon in 1982, I had a Bladerunner script of my own. I had a plot, scenes, dialogue and even a title for the sequel, Bladerunner Angelfall, but no idea what to do with it.

It was then I met Michael Cope, another aspiring writer with whom I shared a passion about science fiction. He began working on the idea with me but we quickly realised that the likelihood of this script being seen was almost zero. We were nobodies. So we made the decision to change the idea into something original and the writing team of Walker/Cope was born.

It is perhaps ironic that the plot and concept I had created for the Bladerunner sequel perfectly mirrored the actual Denis Villeneuve film Bladerunner 2049. The screenplay was written by Hampton Francher and Michael Green and, much like my own idea, explored a world in which Rachel and Harrison Ford’s Deckard conceived a child.

While developing the Bladerunner Angelfall project, we began writing short stories and entering them in an international competition called The Ian St James Awards which ran for over a decade with associated magazines, The New Writer and Acclaim. Our stories were shortlisted an unprecedented five times and published in the magazines. One entry, a crime fiction story about a serial killer who left origami doves on his victims, was featured on BBC radio and attracted the attention of the top agents Peters Frazer and Dunlop. Regrettably, we had no plans at that time to write a crime novel and the opportunity slipped us by.

This sudden success had shown us that we could put together noteworthy stories and so we continued creating the Bladerunner novel. By this point we both had wives and families and due to the pressures of work, children and family commitments, dedicating time to the project became ever more challenging and the partnership regrettably stalled.

After a few years hiatus, I had the chance to work part time and this gave me the opportunity to dive back into the writing with a vengeance and start to bring the many novel ideas I had to life in both science fiction, fantasy and modern crime.

Now I’ve reached the point where I’m going to release the work out into the world like children who have grown to adulthood and are about to leave the nest to live their own lives. These children may make me proud or like their flesh and blood counterparts, become dreadful embarrassments.

Only you can decide…