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Journalists who were mentored by Mirror journalists see their writing in print as part of Michael Sheen’s “A Writing Chance” project.

I had a dream to be an actor as a typical child growing up in South Wales.

Although that may have seemed unusual in the past, I still had Anthony Hopkins and Richard Burton to look up to, both of whom had grown up like me and had succeeded. Working-class people also created more books, movies, plays, and TV shows, starting with “A Taste of Honey” and “Boys from the Black Stuff.”

All of that gave me the confidence to try something for myself. However, things have changed over the past few decades. People from ordinary backgrounds are now much harder to get their stories heard.

Only 10% of published authors are working-class, compared to the other half’s today. Something is going wrong because we all know that working-class people are some of the best storytellers in the world and that kids from all walks of life enjoy reading in school.

That’s why I worked with the Daily Mirror to launch ‘A Writing Chance’, a project to find and support new working-class writers from across the UK. We’ve already found fantastic storytellers – one, Tom Newlands, wrote one of the big hits of 2024, ‘Only Here, Only Now’.

Here you can read some of the work our most recent writers have done under the direction of masterful Mirror journalists.

It’s reaffirmed my conviction that the real successful work we’re seeing today “tends to be working-class writers telling working-class stories,” as Stephen Daldry did in Billy Elliot.

In the future, we’ll be publishing more stories like this in a new publication called The Bee, which will house working-class writers. I’m hoping you’ll enjoy it and, if you have a story to tell, might write for us as well.

People from the less-developed social classes must have the opportunity to share their stories and make their voices heard in order for justice and fairness to prevail. However, common sense is also important.

63% of working-class people who enjoy reading said representation was important and that they would like to see more people like themselves on the pages. Untapped markets exist today.

The most pressing, revelatory, and entertaining stories, the ones we most long for, are frequently told by those who are excluded or struggle to be heard.

I’ve always believed that telling stories is an important way to make change in the world – and levelling the playing field for writers has to be a change for the better.

Working people’s writing will inspire others to be creative, in the same way that working-class actors and writers have inspired me.

By Emma Astra

Sue Townsend was a working-class, disabled, and unwaveringly committed to my Leicester neighborhood. She gave people like me hope by tackling serious issues with wit and heart.

She urged me to write about our lives, which included illness, hardship, and council estates.

Council estates are frequently described as “wrong” in our minds. What’s right, though, though? Women like Sue and my nana Winnie, who didn’t want credit, led activism, humor, and community resilience. They merely desired change.

Sue was more than just a writer: she was a movement. Working-class people were able to see her without calling her out or exaggerating. She embraced the extraordinary in daily life and expressed it honestly.

In the late 1960s, Sue relocated to Leicester’s Eyres Monsell estate. Sue was a struggling single mother of three young children in her early years. When her son questioned, “Why can’t we visit the zoo like other kids?” Adrian Mole planted a seed.

Sue and Winnie Aldwinckle became my nana in the 1970s. Sue worked on the next estate known as The Saff, and Annie was a powerhouse by co-founding the Parents’ Association in 1973. Both women used media to effect change, and Sue’s activism was similar to Sue’s.

Winnie and journalist Adam Wakelin co-authored numerous articles for the Leicester Mercury. Before podcasts, she even co-hosted her column Winnie’s World. Wakelin wrote that she spoke. All are voluntary and all are for the community.

Sue and Winnie set up camp in protest of the closure of the Goldhill Adventure Playground, and they succeeded. Sue and Wakelin co-wrote her obituary for the Leicester Mercury, which was Sue’s final known publication prior to her own death in 2014, after Winnie passed away.

We called on Winnie if anything went wrong with the estate, she wrote. If she was on your side, you had a good chance of winning.

Sue also triumphed because she continued to be loyal to Leicester and write truthfully about the people who lived there, not by selling out or moving away.

By Sunita Thind

Some of the taunts I grew up with included “You smell of curry,” “Sunita, you got a tache, gorilla,” and “Oi, Coconut f*ck off home.” This is just a way of life for people like me who are invisible and come from a minority background.

However, you become the problem when you raise it in Asian society. Our elders would say in Punjabi, “Chup kar, keep it quiet, keep it to yourself.”

Because we were a conservative community, we were not educated on taboo subjects like sex, periods, and other taboo topics in my community.

And I was never taught in school to be proud of my diverse cultures and heritage, or to be proud of India’s role in two world wars, or the British Empire’s secret histories.

But my family, including my husband and my silver-tipped Samoyed dog Ghost, were there to lift me up after experiencing infertility, surgical menopause, hair loss, ovaries loss, and fertility.

I finally realized that the cultures and customs I once rejected are a part of my DNA when I attended my stunning Sikh wedding with my handsome, white husband.

My family moved from Singapore and Malaysia. My dad worked long, hard hours at the Brickyard, and my grandfather eventually established a corner shop. When the doors opened, it was my family, community, and Gurdwara that gave me a sense of self and delicious Indian food, but I loved singing the Christian hymns at school.

We reciprocated over special holidays like Diwali, Vasaki (Sikh Harvest Festival), and Rakhi, the birthday of Guru Nanak, and the food we prepared.

If you are Caucasian, an expat, a person of color, an immigrant, a migrant, or a refugee, you are all of those things. We are still wishing to belong inside the looking glass while our hands and faces are pressed against it.

By Zainab Amer

I write for my community, not to my advantage.

I have English and Egyptian roots and am a working-class person. I spent my early summers in Egypt, surrounded by family, food, and laughter. For the first time in my life, poverty was present. It shook me and still shakes me. Even then, I was aware that these stories mattered.

It’s difficult to be a working-class writer. Access, or the lack thereof, to resources, networks, and a seat at the table is the biggest challenge.

While my feet throbbed, I have stacked shelves, strewn, and stowed plates in soiled bathrooms. Politicians insist on the value of hard work. We can’t barely afford to pay rent, though. Instead, we are compensated for not writing submissions because of housing issues.

Despite these flaws, the advantages I have over the disadvantages. A caregiver devoted ten years to her dementia-stricken father. I’ve argued sparingly with fellow retail workers, which is a necessary prerequisite for a nine-hour workday. These are more than just tales of “future struggle.” They are brimming with humor, grit, and compassion. I try to carry these throughout each and every story as a writer. every article every pitch